“Good morning,” he says.
Pleasantries. What the hell is going on this morning,she thinks but keeps her thoughts to herself and responds the same.
“Are you okay?” he asks as he looks at her beautiful face. She looks refreshed today and her skin has a nice glow. He also notices her hair’s changed. It isn’t straight and hanging down both sides. No heat has graced it and she’s all-natural with large black coils.
“Depends on what’s happening to me today,” she admits honestly. Her entire mood and mental health are absolutely tied to her fate.
“I need your help, Sunjiya,” he says, enunciating her name.
Sunjiya! He called me Sunjiya. Was that intentional? Does he believe me now?
“You called me Sunjiya,” she comments, praying she isn’t reading too much into it.
“Because I know you aren’t your sister,” he explains.
A wave of pure relaxation floods her entire body. The tight knots in her neck, tension in her shoulders, anxiety coursing through her veins, and slightly elevated heart rate since being locked in this basement all dissipates and she can finally breathe.
He believes me.
“Why? How? What changed?” she questions.
“Your sister’s in trouble. I got her medical records and the nigga who hired me has been putting his hands on her. The shit’s really bad. I think that’s why she left. She’s running and probably why she reached out to you,” he says and she feels her heart drop into her stomach.
“Medical records?” she quizzes, barely over a whisper.
“It’s bad,” he says as he debates showing her the actual records. The color on her face drains and her eyes drop. Her entire face looks sad and that shit makes his damn chest tight.
“And you have the actual records?”
“Yeah, I got them all and it’s pretty bad. I don’t think you should see them,” he insists.
“I want to see them, please.”
Against his best judgment, he pulls his cell from his pocket and opens the files. Then, he slides the phone over to her. His eyes stay glued to her as she scrolls through record after record. By the third ER visit, she’s unable to mask or contain her emotions. Tears fall from her eyes as she reads the horrific injuries on page.
Everything in him wants to reach out and comfort her in some way but he refrains. Instead, he treks to the bathroom. When he returns with tissue, she’s still reading. He hands her the tissue. She nods in appreciation but continues to break her heart and read. Page after page, it’s all here, broken bones and ribs, bruises, and trauma. Sunjiya reads every patient note, diagnosis, and treatment, two thoughts crowding her mind.
Marcelin is a piece of shit and a fucking monster. He has to die.
“I want to kill him,” she finally says before placing Akeem’s phone on the table.
“Nah. That’s all me,” he assures her. “I just need you to help me figure this shit out and find her because I don’t think she’s in Crescent Falls. She probably left before you came. I placed a camera outside of her apartment and reviewed the footage last night. She hasn’t come back.”
“She’s gone,” she utters, then adds, “We gotta find her and get to his ass.”
“Agreed,” he says. “You know her better than me. So let’s just look through this shit again and see what we might have missed.And ay, before we start, I owe you an apology. I was just doing my job based on the intel I had but I should have listened to you. My bad; I’m sorry,” he says and she shakes her head.
With a sarcastic grin, she says, “Sorry for drugging me, tying me up, and threatening to shoot me? Yeah, okay. It’s going to take more than that. Let’s just work together and find my sister.”
The apology was a shot that obviously failed but part of him knew that. He just had to give the shit a try because part of him felt bad. Although he was operating on the information given to him and his gut, he hated that he hadn’t listened to her more.
“You got that. I’m hungry though. I can’t do shit when I need food. After last night, I’m not taking any chances. You can pick the spot and get what you can eat.”
“I just need coffee for now. I might want something later. There’s none down here. Am I permitted to go upstairs?” she asks with a smirk.
While she appreciates their newfound dynamic, the fact remains that she’s been his prisoner for the last twenty-four hours. She’s treading lightly until she fully trusts it or him.
“You can go wherever you want. I’m not gon’ hold you. You can even dip if you want. I would like your help, but I get it. If you want to leave right now, I can take you back to her apartment,” he says. He pulls the other two cells from his pocket and places them in front of her. Then he grabs his cell. “It’s whatever you want,” he adds before standing. “I gotta find something to eat. You let me know what you decide,” he adds, then heads to the stairs.
