A House Divided (16 page)

C
urtis climbed the staircase, looked in on Curtina, who was sleeping peacefully, and strolled a couple of doors down to MJ’s nursery. Curtis, Matt, and the baby had been home for a while, his in-laws had driven back to Chicago over an hour ago, and now Curtis was beat and ready for bed. Before heading to his own room, though, he eased open the door to the nursery and smiled at Matthew, who was sitting in the rocking chair fast asleep. Curtis could see, too, that MJ was pretty content, and strangely enough, he was resting in his bassinet. The other thing Curtis had noticed was that he hadn’t cried during their visit with the Andersons, but maybe it was because Racquel hadn’t put him down.

Curtis closed the door and went to the end of the hallway. When he walked inside, he didn’t see Charlotte, but he heard water running in their bathroom. Even though he’d made the decision to casually ask her about her possible involvement with the DCFS claim, he’d sort of rethought it on the way home. He knew that if there was a chance Charlotte actually had devised such an awful scheme she needed to be confronted, but he also hated driving a new wedge between them. They’d come such a long way as husband and wife, and it felt good not having to argue—good not walking around for days giving each other the silent treatment. They were in a great place for a change, and people could call him a wimp if they wanted to, but he’d grown tired of all the bickering and no longer had a lot of energy for it. It was so much nicer having peace and tranquility in a marriage than it was dealing with controversy. He’d also be remiss if he didn’t acknowledge that dreadful secret of his that might be exposed very soon, because if this happened, he and Charlotte would have more than enough trouble to deal with.

Curtis walked into the bathroom and leaned against one of the vanities. Charlotte saturated her face with moisturizer and looked at Curtis through the mirror.

“We really need to sit down and talk to Matt,” she said.

“About what?”

“That stunt he pulled tonight. He’s not thinking, and he has no idea how serious those allegations are.”

“Maybe, but to me it doesn’t matter, because they’re not true. They’re totally bogus.”

Charlotte looked at her reflection and smoothed more product on her face. Curtis wondered why she’d looked away from him until she said, “Are you sure about that?”

Curtis squinted his eyes. “What do you mean, am I sure? We’re both sure, right?”

“I wanna be,” she said, still facing the mirror. “But this evening I thought a lot more about it, and I don’t know what to think. It would be one thing if there was only one accusation, but two are a bit much.”

Curtis wanted to believe she was joking, but the tone of her voice was as serious as could be. He didn’t even have words.

“That’s why I think we should let DCFS do their job,” she continued. “We also need to keep MJ away from them until we know more. Matt will never agree to that, but once he goes back to Boston, he won’t be able to sneak MJ over there again. He shouldn’t have done it tonight.”

“Why? Nothing happened, and he was with the baby the whole time.” Curtis didn’t bother telling her that Racquel and Matthew had taken MJ upstairs so they could be alone with him, because with this latest revelation of hers there was no telling how she might react.

Curtis listened to her go on and on, but just as he was about to ask her flat out if she was behind all of this, his cell rang. It was after ten o’clock, so he wondered who was calling him this late. He pulled his phone from the side of his waist and looked at it, but when he didn’t recognize the number, he panicked. His stomach swirled uncomfortably, as he feared this might be the stranger who’d been contacting him. He wanted nothing more than to disregard it and put his phone away, but since Charlotte stood there watching, he had no choice but to answer it. If he didn’t, she’d ask questions and wonder why he was ignoring phone calls. He also didn’t want to miss anything urgent relating to one of his members.

“Hello?”

“Pastor Black?” the man said.

“Dillon?”

“Yes.”

Curtis was relieved it was him, but he didn’t like the desperation in Dillon’s voice. “Is everything okay?”

“No, things are a mess, Pastor. I’ve really messed up this time.”

“Where are you?”

“Sitting outside the strip club.”

Curtis shook his head. “Dillon—”

“I just can’t help myself,” he said.

“Well, you did the right thing by calling, and try not to beat yourself up over this.”

“I
really
wanna go in there, though. Especially after what happened.”

“What?”

“Melissa gave me her ring back and told me she never wants to see me again.”

“Why?”

“She followed me…to the strip club tonight.”

“Oh no,” Curtis said.

“She just left, and that’s when I called you. I told you, I really messed up. I never should have let her catch me here again.”

“You have to find the strength to leave.”

“Well, it’s not like I have anything to lose. She broke things off for good.”

“Actually, you have everything to lose. Starting with your serenity, your self-respect, and more than anything, your soul.”

Dillon was quiet.

“Are you still there?”

“Yeah…maybe if I had someone to talk to. I know it’s late, Pastor, but can you come get me? I hate bothering you like this, but if I go inside this place, I’m not leaving without one or two of those women. Maybe I’m sick.”

“You have a problem, and you need help. Just tell me the address.”

Dillon rattled off directions as best he could, still sounding distraught.

“I’m on my way, but don’t leave your car. Just stay put, and call me back if you need to.”

“Thank you so much, Pastor. I won’t forget this. Oh, and I’ll be sitting in a white Cadillac.”

“See you soon,” Curtis said.

Charlotte turned around. “Who was that?”

“The guy I’ve been counseling. The one with the porn problem.”

“What did he want?”

“For me to come meet him.”

“Where?”

“At a strip club.”

“Excuse me? Can’t he meet you somewhere else?”

“Once I find him, I’ll have him follow me to a coffee shop.”

“I hope so. And you be careful, because a strip club isn’t the kind of place you should be going to. Not even the parking lot.”

Curtis kissed her, told her they’d finish their conversation in the morning, and left.

C
urtis slowed his SUV, turned in to the parking lot of DJ’s Gentlemen’s Club, and curved around to the rear of the building where Dillon was parked. A few minutes ago, Dillon had called and told him he was moving his vehicle from the front, because he didn’t want anyone recognizing Curtis and starting rumors. Curtis hadn’t thought much about it, but now that he saw how crowded the strip club was, he was glad to avoid as many people as possible.

He spotted Dillon’s vehicle right away and pulled up next to him. They each rolled down their windows.

“Thank you again for coming,” Dillon said.

“It was no problem. I’m glad you called. Why don’t we find a restaurant or something? That way we can talk privately.”

Dillon stared at him and appeared uneasy. Curtis wasn’t sure why he seemed anxious and nervous, until Dillon looked toward the back of Curtis’s SUV. Curtis glanced into his rearview mirror and saw a large figure rushing toward him, but there was no time to react. A tall, husky man snatched open Curtis’s door and yanked him out of it. Then he slammed Curtis to the ground.

“What in the world?” Curtis said, seeing Dillon zoom away in his car. “Are you crazy?

The man stomped Curtis’s head and then his stomach.

“Ahhhhhhh!” Curtis screamed.

Now Curtis felt kicking at both his sides. The pain was razor sharp, and he realized a second person was attacking him. His vision was fuzzy, but he definitely saw two different people standing over him.

“Owwwww!” Curtis bellowed. “Oh dear God.”

The men never said a word, just kept kicking Curtis with full force in every part of his body. His head, his chest, his stomach, his sides, his legs, his arms. They kicked him over and over and over again until his body fell limp. He struggled to open his eyes, but he couldn’t. He tried with everything in him but failed. He lay there until they beat him unconscious.

Curtis blinked his eyes slowly and then opened them as far as he could. His vision was still blurred, and he had no idea where he was. Piercing, throbbing pain swept through his head, but when he went to raise his hand toward it, he couldn’t. He jerked his right hand and then his left, realizing they were tied down. He wasn’t sure what they were attached to, but as he gained more of his faculties, he could tell he was sitting in a chair. He also tried moving his legs but couldn’t. Finally, he blinked his eyes again, trying to focus them and search his surroundings, but just as his vision improved someone slapped him silly.

“Ohhhhhhhh!” he moaned, seeing stars.

His face stung so intensely, it felt like it was on fire. His attacker had whacked him so hard, his head had jolted to the side, and now his neck ached.

“That’s for all the times you grabbed on me and threatened me like I was a child,” the woman said, and smacked him again. “And that’s for lying to me from the moment I met you.”

She lit into him a third time with what seemed like all her might.

“Owwwwww!” Curtis yelled. He took deep breaths and tried to recall the familiar voice.

“That one was for pretending you loved me, when all along you were sleepin’ around with whores whenever you felt like it. You could’ve given me all kinds of nasty diseases.”

Now the angry woman laid into him with her fists. Curtis moaned and groaned from all the pain, but he still concentrated on the woman’s voice. Of all the people he could think of, this just couldn’t be. There was no way.

“Look at me!” she shouted, grabbing and squeezing his chin and breathing in his face. “Open your eyes and look at me when I’m talking to you!”

Curtis fought to open his eyes again, and as they began focusing, his heart stopped in shock. “Mariah?”

“Exactly.”

Streaks of pain ripped through Curtis’s stomach, chest, and back, and he wondered if his ribs were broken. Now he struggled to breathe. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you deserve it,” she said.

“But why?”

Mariah laughed like a madwoman. “You know why,” she said, and then mocked his words from long ago. “‘I only married you because the church required me to have a wife within my first two years…but I was never in love with you…I could never love you.’ Remember that? Remember those cold and cruel words you said to me? Remember how I cried my eyes out when I caught you at that hotel with Charlotte? Remember how you never even told me about Matthew or how you’d gotten Charlotte pregnant when you were married to Tanya? Remember how you started whoring around with that Adrienne woman? Remember that, Curtis?”

Of course he remembered, but why was she dredging all this up now? He hadn’t heard from Mariah since she divorced him, and that had been nearly twelve years ago. And when had she become so violent and hateful? The Mariah he’d known had been as meek and naïve as a schoolgirl. She’d never raised her voice to him, and for a long time she’d believed any- and everything he told her, and she would have done anything to make him love her. So he didn’t know who this person was standing before him now, dressed in a black button-down blouse with the collar raised up toward the nape of her neck. Curtis wondered where this drastic and bizarre transformation had come from. She’d gone from being one of the most timid and submissive women he knew to being a ruthless gangster? She had to have lost her mind. It was the only feasible explanation.

Curtis scanned the area and saw two huge, muscular men dressed in jeans and leather jackets. He couldn’t tell for sure, but one of them looked like the thug who had snatched him out of the truck. Curtis peered through swollen eyes, trying his best to get a better view. It was definitely him. If only the doors to his SUV weren’t programmed to automatically unlock when he placed his gear in park, this never would have happened. He’d have been able to drive away in a hurry. But then, Curtis thought about the whole reason he’d been in the back lot of a strip club in the first place. Dillon. Curtis wondered why he’d sped off—and why he’d set him up like this. He’d seemed like such a good guy who just happened to have an addiction problem, but now Curtis knew those counseling sessions had all been part of the plan—part of Mariah’s plan.

“You look pathetic,” she snarled.

Curtis licked the bottom of his sore lip, tasting dry blood. “What is it that you want me from me, Mariah?”

“This,” she said. “I wanted you to see how it feels to be helpless and in pain. I wanted to see you bruised and bloody.”

A sharp ache raced through Curtis’s side. “After all these years?” he asked, frowning. “After all these years, you’re still holding a grudge?”

“Hmmph, I’m over it, but I’m not through with it. You’ve hurt people, Curtis, and you’ve gotten away with it. But not this time.”

“Look,” he said, taking deep breaths. “You’ve done what you needed to do, so now what?”

“We wait.”

“For what?”

Mariah laughed. “Didn’t you get my letters?”

Curtis stared at her. “I don’t believe this.”

“Why, because you didn’t think I had it in me? Well, that was the old Mariah; this is the new one. I’m a totally different woman, period. I’m the nightmare you never saw coming.”

Curtis’s head swirled, and he closed his eyes. He wondered if he had a concussion.

Mariah struck him again. “Wake up!”

Curtis’s eyes flew open but his head spun faster. He wasn’t even sure what to say to this lunatic anymore, so he just sat there, praying she would let him go. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but he knew hours had likely passed, and Charlotte had to be going out of her mind. He also wondered where his phone was, but then he remembered he’d left it on the front passenger seat. And, now that he thought about it, what had they done with his truck?

“There’s something else I wanna say, too,” she said, forcing his head back with her hand.

“Oh God!” he shrieked. “Mariah, why are you doing this?”

“I already told you…you deserve it. But like I said, there’s something else I wanna say to you. So listen up!”

Curtis twisted his head from side to side, trying to shake off the dizziness, but it wasn’t working.

“I told you a thousand times that I wasn’t comfortable with oral sex, but you just wouldn’t leave it alone. Then when you insisted I do it, I told you I wanted to pray about it. I begged you to give me more time, but all you said was, ‘
Pray?
As far as I’m concerned there’s nothing to
pray
about. Either you’re going to do it or you’re not.’ Then, you threatened to get it elsewhere. Of course, me, being the pathetic thing that I was back then, I hurried and did what you wanted. Especially when you told me you would love me more than you already did and that we would finally bond completely. Remember that?”

Curtis sighed. Why on earth would he remember such a lame conversation? Not to mention, it was years and years ago. Now he
knew
Mariah had snapped. People just didn’t change like this otherwise.

She grabbed his chin again. “Well, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Remember.”

“No, but I’m sorry. Is that what you wanna hear? I’m sorry, I regret the way I treated you, and I only want the best for you. Okay?”

“‘Sorry’ won’t help you at this point. You should have said those words when we were married. But no. Instead, you moved to another town with that whore, Charlotte, you married her, founded your own church, and you’ve been living happily ever after.”

“I’m not sure what else you want me to do. I’ve apologized, and whether you believe it or not, I’m a different man, Mariah.”

“I don’t think so.”

Curtis wished she’d get to the point and stop torturing him with all this chitchat. He truly was sorry for the things he’d done to her, but he couldn’t take anything back. If he could he would, but it wasn’t possible. Didn’t she know that?

“Aren’t you even going to ask me about Dillon?” she said.

“Why? It’s very clear that he’s the one who set me up,” Curtis said, but then glanced over at her two thuglike bodyguards, who stared at him like they wanted to trounce on him again. If only D.C. were there to handle this.

“You know that thing you did in grad school? Well, he’s Sonya Whitfield’s son. Remember her?”

Curtis inhaled and exhaled numerous times, trying to catch his breath. He couldn’t speak if he wanted to, couldn’t find the words. Still, painful thoughts danced through his mind, and all he could think was,
Dillon Tate, the man I’ve been counseling and trying to help,
is actually Dillon Whitfield? Sonya Whitfield’s son? Dear
Lord.