Authors: Zuri Day
Love on the Run (6 page)
8
The next day, Shayna and Michael sat talking in the living room. At first she'd been evasive, but after several attempts by Michael to get a bead on Jarrell from Shayna's point of view, along with his assurance that everything she shared would remain confidential between them, she opened up.
“We grew up together, for years lived in the same complex. His mother and my mother were friends, and at one point, he spent as much time at my grandmother's house as I did. When we reached high school, he was the one who really encouraged me to run track. He became my personal trainer. One thing led to another and when I was sixteen . . . we started dating.”
“What did your father have to say about that?”
“He's dead.”
“I'm sorry.”
“It's okay. I never knew him.”
Interesting.
Michael remembered watching a show about the effect on women who didn't have a father in the home while growing up, how they were much more likely to start dating young, and were more likely to choose the wrong man for the wrong reason. Had that been the case with Shayna? “So Jarrell Powell is your boyfriend.” The background check hadn't been extensive, but as with all his clients, he'd had Troy run a profile on her. There had been no arrests, no record of drug use, and no mention of this best friend turned boyfriend who'd played a major role in her life. Obviously, a major piece of information had been overlooked.
Michael remembered watching a show about the effect on women who didn't have a father in the home while growing up, how they were much more likely to start dating young, and were more likely to choose the wrong man for the wrong reason. Had that been the case with Shayna? “So Jarrell Powell is your boyfriend.” The background check hadn't been extensive, but as with all his clients, he'd had Troy run a profile on her. There had been no arrests, no record of drug use, and no mention of this best friend turned boyfriend who'd played a major role in her life. Obviously, a major piece of information had been overlooked.
“At one time, Jay was my best friend.” Shayna looked at Michael, her eyes filled with confusion. “That's why his actions are such a shock. We shared everything, dating steadily through high school and my first two years of college. Then we started having problems, him feeling like he was taking a backseat to track, which he was, and starting to go out with other girls. We were on-again off-again for almost four years until I broke up with him for good right before the Olympics. Needless to say, that decision isn't going over well.”
“Yeah, I'm sure he wanted to share your limelight.”
“He felt that he deserved it, feels that he's responsible for me being where I am. It's true that he encouraged me back in the day, but I'm the one who's been putting in the work on the track day in and day out. Anything I owed Jarrell I feel I paid back a long time ago.”
She sat on the same couch she'd occupied the day before, this time wrapped up in one of Michael's shirts (several sizes too big) and a pair of his shorts (several inches too long). Her ribs were wrapped as well, tightly and expertly. They had gone to Gregory's doctor friend's office last night, where his diagnosis of cracked ribs was confirmed. Two, on her right side. A blood vessel in her throat had been broken, causing a nasty looking purplish splotch, but the other scratches and bruises were superficial. After learning that her car was still on Sunset, and that last night she'd run from there all the way to his house, Michael had insisted she stay, at least for the night, so that they could decide the best course of action. Shayna didn't want to, felt she'd already been enough of an imposition and should go home. Gregory advised against it while Michael simply informed her that leaving his house in her condition without her roommates there to take care of her and a fool still on the loose was not an option. Period. Having taken the sleep-inducing pain pill that Gregory had offered, there was nothing Shayna could do but leave a message on the phones that neither Talisha nor Brittney were answering to let them know that she was all right and would see them later. Then she'd enjoyed an incredible night's sleep in Michael's room (he'd insisted), and a scrumptious all-American breakfast that Orlando had prepared. And now, here she sat, feeling somewhat surreal, as she shared with Michael the details of her first and only love. Not at all what this twenty-five-year-old had planned for this particular Saturday. But here she was.
Michael reared back in the oversized chair that was positioned across from the couch. His emotions had been turned upside down since seeing Shayna huddled next to his wrought-iron gate. The line between professional and personal was not only blurred, but quickly becoming obliterated. Michael felt an indescribable need to protect Shayna, to take care of her, in a way he'd not only never felt about a client, but had never felt about anyone. He wasn't comfortable with that. Not at all. Still, he continued questioning this very personal part of her life by telling himself that as her manager and the shaper of her public image . . . he needed to know.
And for some inexplicable reason, Shayna felt a need to tell.
“Jay is basically a good person. He's got enough game for his own arcade, but he's smart and focused and at one time, I really cared about him. He always seemed so knowledgeable about everything. I thought he was sophisticated, going places. He wore suits to class, even in high school, and was a business major in college. He's good people.”
“He's also the man who attacked you on a public street.”
Shayna glanced up at Michael as her eyes became glassy. “I know. And I know I should hate him right about now. As it is, I'm pretty pissed off. But the man who tried to grab me isn't the Jay that I know. Plus, part of this is my fault.”
“What?” Michael looked at her as though she'd lost a major part of her mind, if not all of it.
“No, Michael, you don't know the whole story. He's been calling and I keep ignoring him. Whatever has happened between us, he was my friend for many, many years.” She continued, looking out the patio doors into a yesterday when Jay had been the sun in the sky otherwise known as her life. “If I'd just talked to him, maybe none of this would have happened.”
“So you'll keep talking to him for the rest of your life, then he won't beat you up. Is that the logic that we're working with here?”
“I know it sounds crazy, and no, I'm not going to get back with him. But I've known him practically all my life and dated him almost ten years, since we were sixteen. You can't just turn off those feelings overnight, even if that's the right thing to do. He's now turned into somebody I no longer know, but at one time, we were happy. . . .”
Michael observed the sad yet dreamy expression on her face and ignored the stab of pain that came with her acknowledgment of her love for another man. Growing soft in his old age, he'd later reflect, though some might have argued thirty-one wasn't all that old. “And then shift happened, when he was too immature to understand what obtaining dreams cost, what I needed to do to get to where I am now.”
She clasped her hands together; twirled her thumbs. “It was so subtle I didn't even recognize it.” After a moment, she continued. “He was always kind of possessive, I guess, but since we were so often together anyway I didn't recognize it. He basically ran our personal lives, my athletic career, everything. Then, during my second year at USC, which has its own workout and training regimen, I stopped working with Jay, stopped listening to his recommendations for my training schedule. That's when things started . . . going downhill.”
“You fired him as your PT?”
“Technically, though he'd never been official in the first place. Plus, he still worked with me on weekends and came to all of my events. I basically had two coaches until my senior year. But when they brought in John Joyner, everything changed.”
“What happened then?”
“Coach and Jay mixed like oil and vinegar. He, and I'm talking about Coach, set me up on an intense new regimen that cut into the time I spent with Jay. But Jay, being the self-centered guy that he is, saw my new schedule as Coach's attempt to separate us and accused him of liking me even though Coach is married and they'd just had a child at the time. It got to the point that I couldn't go anywhere without Jay knowing time of departure and estimated return. Later I realized that he was accusing me of cheating because of the women crowding his bed. He kept apologizing and I kept taking him back, always on the strength of what once was. I should have ended the relationship a long time ago.”
“What made you finally do it? I mean, for good?”
“Training for the Olympics was intense and by then Jay and I were fighting all the time. It was too much pressure. I just couldn't take it anymore.”
Michael nodded in understanding. “And then once you came back with the gold, the accolades, the status . . . he realized what he'd lost and wanted to make amends.”
“Jay was furious at not being a part of it all. And I did try and include him a little. He was the one who encouraged me in the beginning. But I didn't want to be his girl anymore and he didn't want to just be friends. He wanted everything; at one point he was demanding to be my manager even though he has no experience doing that at all! I told him in no uncertain terms that I wanted whoever managed me to have experience and that when it came to a relationship . . . that part of our lives is over.”
Her voice sounded sure; her eyes . . . not so much.
“You should know that as my client, your protection and reputation is a high priority. We'll make sure that you're not harassed by him, or anyone else.”
“I appreciate that, Michael, but my personal life really isn't any of your concern.”
“I'm making it mine.”
Both Michael and Shayna looked toward the sound of a side door closing. Seconds later one of Michael's assistants, Keith Byers, rounded the corner with Shayna's freshly cleaned suit in one hand and her car keys in the other.
Glad for the diversion, Shayna stood as quickly as her injury allowed and walked over to Keith. “Thanks for picking up my car and bringing these from the cleaners,” she said, taking the car keys and cleaners bag from Keith's outstretched hand. She turned to Michael. “Thank you. I think I'll go change.” Resisting the urge to flee from the room, she instead walked calmly out of the living area and down the hall to the guest bathroom. Taking a shallow bath here, as Michael's brother Gregory had suggested, was out of the question. It didn't matter that the thought of Michael's hands on her body had made her wet. She'd just gotten out of a crazy relationship. She was trying to establish her career. Hadn't she learned what could happen when things went sour with someone you worked with? No, better to keep the line of demarcation clearly drawn. So instead of following doctor's orders, she took a quick sponge bath at the sink, hurriedly slipped into the suit, retrieved her shoes from Michael's bedside, and, after closing her eyes to inhale the woodsy cologne scent that lingered in the room, she turned and left.
“You sure you're okay to drive?” Michael had stood and walked toward the hallway when he heard Shayna approach.
“I'll be fine.”
“You're welcome to stay another night if you're not up to traveling.”
Shayna shook her head. “The bandages help, and I'll stop and get the ibuprofen that Gregory recommended, but otherwise, I'm fine. Plus, my roommates are home and have been blowing up my phone. I've texted them that I'm on my way and if I don't show up they'll surely report me missing.”
“Okay. I'll walk you outside.”
They reached the red Hyundai where the two stood in awkward silence, not meaning to stare at each other but not able to look away. Michael wanted to hug her, but the whole cracked rib situation made that gesture unwise. Actually, he wanted to kiss her, to bury his tongue deep inside her mouth . . . and other places. But their business relationship made that unwise as well. He reached for her door handle and after she'd carefully sat down, reached over for the seat belt to buckle her in.
Was it his imagination, or had the whisper of a kiss touched his cheek as he stood back up? As he watched Shayna's car until he could no longer see it, the question remained.
9
She couldn't resist and yet still couldn't believe she'd done it. Touched her lips to Michael's temple before she could even think about it, let alone stop it. It had been a natural act, a reflex really. Or at least that's what she'd told herself all the way home, and even now, as she stood at her front door, her fingers pressed to where Michael's head had been.
He didn't feel it.
Something else she chose to believe. No more time to ponder the consequences now, however, because Shayna had barely opened the door when her roommates bum-rushed her and the comments started.
He didn't feel it.
Something else she chose to believe. No more time to ponder the consequences now, however, because Shayna had barely opened the door when her roommates bum-rushed her and the comments started.
“It's about time you got here!” The loud voice bounced down the hallway and hit Shayna in the face.
That's Brittney's dramatic behind.
If not for the pain and the tightness of the bandages, Shayna would have laughed out loud.
If not for the pain and the tightness of the bandages, Shayna would have laughed out loud.
“Uh-huh, heifah,” Talisha added. “You know your butt has some explainingâ” They rounded the corner. Talisha stepped back, straight into Brittney, who'd been on her heels. Both women noticed the scratches on her face and the bruise mark on her neck. The color purple, and we're not talking about the kind that Nettie and Celie enjoyed in the lilac field. “Shay! What happened?”
The two women stepped aside so that Shayna could get past them and into the living room. “Don't tell me Michael did this,” Talisha said, her voice low and threatening.
“Do we need to call the police on his ass?” Brittney asked. She was already reaching for her phone.
“Wait, guys,” Shayna said, her raised hands a plea for silence. “I'll tell you everything, but first let me get out of these clothes and get some water. I need to take a pill.”
Talisha's eyes narrowed as she noted the careful way Shayna took off her heels before starting down the hall. “Do you need any help?”
Shayna realized that it would be useless to try and keep her roommates out of her bedroom or her business so she didn't even try. “Come on in, y'all.” She unbuttoned the jacket and winced trying to remove it.
Brittney gasped, noting that a tightly bound bandage had replaced the top Shayna wore when she'd left the house yesterday.
“Wait, Shay, let me help you out of it,” Talisha said. “Put your arms down. Brittney, go get Shayna a glass of water.” The mother hen of the trio, she carefully slid the jacket down Shayna's arm. Shayna unbuttoned her slacks while Talisha went into her closet for a loose-fitting pair of sweatpants and matching lightweight jacket that zipped up the front. Brittney returned with the glass of water. Two sets of intent eyes watched Shayna remove the painkillers from her purse, take one, and drink the entire glass of water.
“Sit,” Talisha demanded, pointing to the bed.
“Spill it,” Brittney added, as both she and Talisha sat on the bed as well.
Shayna took a deep breath. Suddenly she felt tired, drained, wanting nothing more than sleep to help her escape the reality of her last twenty-four hours. But these were her sister-girls, and the concerned looks on their faces prodded her on. “It was Jay.”
Brittney's mouth fell open. “Jay did this? He beat you up?” Brittney knew the old Jay, the one who used to cook dinner when Brittney came over, then sit and watch comedies all night long. That Jay would never have done this.
Shayna nodded.
“What the hell?” Talisha shouted, with a frown that suggested she was about ready to take off her earrings and smear her face with Vaseline.
“How'd he find you?” Brittney asked.
Talisha didn't wait for an answer before firing another question of her own. “Did he follow you to Michael's place?”
“I don't know,” Shayna responded, just realizing that Jarrell may very well have followed her to Michael's place and now knew where her manager lived. This thought did not sit well with her and she made a mental note to call Michael before going to sleep. “Y'all know he's been calling and texting me off the hook since Mom gave him my new number.” Shayna was so mad at her mother for doing so that she hadn't called her yet. She needed more time before she could do so without cursing her out. “He called me at least a dozen times yesterday, texting, too. Finally, when I got to Michael's house, I turned off the phone.
“The meeting lasted for hours, and no”âshe fixed her roommates with a pointed lookâ“nothing happened. The meeting was totally professional, although I'd be lying if I said Michael didn't look good enough to eat. The only meal I had, however, was a Thai dinner that his chef cooked.”
“Wow, he has a chef?” Brittney's expression turned dreamy.
“Forget about the food.” Talisha fluffed up Shayna's pillows, motioning for Brittney to help her place Shayna back up against them. “I want to know how you got from charismatic Michael to crazy Jay!”
Shayna slowly shook her head, trying to recall the feelings of happiness and hopefulness she'd had upon entering the novelty shop. “I'm still trying to figure that out myself. Among other things, Michael and I discussed how to develop my brand, maybe have a signature look or piece of clothing like Flo-Jo, with her nails and one-legged outfits, or Michael and his gold shoes. I was thinking about that when I turned on Sunset and saw this store. I stopped, hoping that maybe I'd see something in there and get inspired. That's when I remembered that I'd turned off my phone. As soon as I turned it back on, I got a text message. It was from Jay.”
“What did that asshole say?”
Shayna closed her eyes and took a breath to calm the fear rising up from inside her. She swallowed and answered, “That he was tired of being ignored and that we were going to talk, one way or another.”
“Oh my God, Shay.” Brittney placed a reassuring hand on Shayna's arm.
“I knew something was wrong when we were on the phone earlier.” Talisha stood and began pacing. “Why didn't you tell me about the text? You know me and Cameron would have came and got you, followed you back home or whatever we needed to do.”
“Because I didn't expect Jay to be hiding in the shadows waiting to attack me. That's why!”
“I'm sorry for yelling at you, girl. I'm just so mad! I can't believe he actually did this.” Talisha sat back down, lowered her voice “You must have been scared to death.”
“I was petrified. When Jay grabbed me, he disguised his voice so I thought it was a stranger trying to rob me or rape me or . . . I don't know what. I couldn't even think . . . just started fighting and yelling and trying to get away.”
“Weren't there people around?” Brittney asked. “Somebody to call the police . . . or something!”
“There were, but these days, no one wants to get involved. Plus, it happened so fast. He grabbed my arm and I felt something pressed against my back. I don't know what it was, a knife, a gun . . . hell, maybe even a flashlight or something else less deadly. But he said that if I yelled that he would, you know, really mess me up. All I could think about was him doing something to me physically that would end my career. I believed him and at first I had planned to do what he said.” Shayna became silent, inwardly reliving the terror of that moment.
“Then what happened?” Brittney asked, plopping down on the bed.
“Ow!”
“Oh, sorry!” Brittney placed her hand on top of the hand now clutching Shayna's side. “So sorry, Shay.”
Shayna took deep breaths before replying, “That's okay. I think the pill is starting to take effect now.”
Talisha crawled on the bed from the other side. “Shayna, you don't have to tell us if you don't want to. It's probably upsetting.”
“No, it's okay, really. I'd rather get it over with tonight or you beatches will bug me forever!”
“You're right!” Brittney said, checking her perfectly manicured nails before offering a side glance in Shayna's direction.
“So . . .” Shayna sighed heavily before continuing. “We were by this door that led to the back of a business on Sunset, a private, totally hidden area between the store and the alley. The attacker, Jay, picked me up and tried to force me through that doorway. I had a feeling that if he got me back there, things might really get ugly. That's when the adrenaline kicked in and I fought for my life, and that's when my ribs got broken. Well, cracked technically, but I can't imagine that broken would feel any worse than this!”
“So when you were fighting, that's when you realized it was Jay?” Talisha asked.
“No, that wasn't until I broke away and started to run. I looked back, just for a second, and our eyes met.” Shayna's brows creased as she relived the scene. “Now that I think about it, maybe that's why he was holding me so tight, he didn't want me to see who it was until he got me away from the public, in a more secluded spot. I should have just answered his stupid calls. Then this wouldn't have happened.”
“I know you're not sitting there saying it's your fault that your ribs are cracked. And I know you're not going to let him get away with this!” So much for Talisha maintaining a calm demeanor. Hard to do when one's blood boiled. She looked at Shayna through narrowed eyes. “Did you file a report with the police?”
Shayna shook her head. “Michael, umm, he said he'd take care of it.”
Brittney crossed her arms. “What does that mean, that he'll take care of it? Michael isn't law enforcement. You need to file a police report, Shayna! You need to have a record of what Jay did in case he tries again! Did you have time to get the names of any of the people around you, anyone who could corroborate your story?”
Shayna shook her head. “I didn't wait around to take names, wasn't even thinking about that. All I could think of was getting away. I tried to get to my car, but he was right behind me so I just started running. I had just come from Michael's and I instinctively started running back in that direction. I was so scared, y'all. When I got to his house, I just collapsed. He was leaving and almost didn't see me. I don't know what would have happened if . . .” She put her head in her hands, and the tears that she'd kept at bay most of the day came pouring out.
“Shh, it's okay, Shay,” Talisha cooed, going from kick-ass anger to calmed-down compassion in the blink of an eye. “We can talk about it later.”
“But wait, Tee. What aboutâ”
“Let's let her get some rest,” Talisha insisted, reaching for Brittney's arm to lead her out of the room. She stopped at the door. “Are you hungry, Shayna?” Shayna shook her head, and lay down on the bed. “Well, there's water on the table beside you. If you need anything, just let me know.”
Shayna listened as her roommates' voices receded down the hallway. She smiled into the darkness, imagining their conversation and their suggestions on what should be done to her ex. Then she thought of Michael and his vow to “take care of it.”
What did that mean?
Yes, Jarrell had hurt her, but did she want him hurt in return? And what about her mother, who'd given him her new number in the first place? Talisha had suggested that Shayna get some rest, and put the incident behind her. But Shayna worried whether the worst was truly over. Or had it only begun?
What did that mean?
Yes, Jarrell had hurt her, but did she want him hurt in return? And what about her mother, who'd given him her new number in the first place? Talisha had suggested that Shayna get some rest, and put the incident behind her. But Shayna worried whether the worst was truly over. Or had it only begun?
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