Dipping my finger into the jar of vanilla scented body butter, I rubbed it between my hands until it became an oil that I applied directly to my legs. I inhaled the scent with a smile. Island truly put her heart and soul into her products. I would forever be a consumer when it came to shopping at A Little More Shea.
Once I was pleased with the glow on my legs, I moved on to the rest of my body until every inch of me gleamed like a glazed donut. “You leave me with no choice. I can’t do this good girl shit no more.” I sang along with H.E.R.’s sultry voice belting from my Beats pill in the corner.
I sang that last line with so much passion it nearly brought tears to my eyes. Being a good girl had yet to serve me well in this life. The soreness in my limbs was a constant reminder of howsick I was of following the rules. Allowing myself to get lost in the music, I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and continued to sing lyrics that felt a little too close to home.
“I ain’t wanna be, but you gon’ make a ho outta me.” I giggled, allowing myself to believe in the declaration of something so obscene. I could never, but the idea was intriguing, to say the least, in my chaotic world, because just maybe there was something better for me out there.
“A ho you’ll be, huh?” Emir’s baritone spoke evenly from nearby.
My eyes snapped open in search of him. Didn’t take long to find his large frame leaning against the doorframe of our bedroom. Only he could make a casual stance so fucking intimidating. My mouth went completely dry, taking notice of the tick in his jaw. That was never a good sign. It meant there was anger simmering beneath the surface of his seemingly calm demeanor. I gulped down what little saliva my mouth could create to speak.
I waved my hand in dismissal of his attempt to make a big deal out of nothing. “It’s just a song, Emir.”
Unable to look at him, I turned toward my vanity so I could start on my hair and makeup. I was thinking of doing a natural glam with a sleek high ponytail. I wanted to show off my high cheekbones, and having my hair out of my face always got the job done. I still had a good hour to get ready, so I went into my hair drawer before pulling out a hairbrush, gel, and a large scrunchie.
“A song you were singing rather loudly. I’m sure the neighbors heard you talking about being a ho.” With slow, calculated strides, he closed the distance between us. To keep my hands from trembling, I continued to brush my hair up in the place where I wanted my ponytail to sit. I nearly stopped breathing when he leaned against the vanity and reached for mychin, forcing me to give him my eyes. “Where do you think you’re going, Harlo?”
I hated the way he said my name. He said it like it was a possession and not a person. It took everything in me to keep my voice neutral. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was terrifying me tonight. “Angel’s bachelorette party is tonight,” I replied honestly.
The day I opened the invitation up in the mail, I knew I was going. It’d been over a year since I’d spoken to any member of my family. Even still, my baby sister invited me to celebrate this monumental moment in her life. I wasn’t missing the chance to celebrate her for nothing in the world. Not even Emir and his controlling nature. For emphasis, I pointed to the invitation leaning against my mirror, then went back to my hair.
He picked it up, flipped it over once without really looking at it, then tossed it down in front of me. I tried not to let it get to me. “You’re not going.”
“Yes, I am,” I retorted, not allowing even a pause or room for his demand to settle.
“What the fuck did I say, Harlo?” His voice dropped to a threateningly low octave, but even still, I continued to press the issue.
“And what did I say? I’ve allowed you to keep me away from my family for long enough. I will be there to celebrate my sister tonight, rather you like it or not.” I was satisfied and a little proud of my ability to fight back. I’d never heard my voice so stern with him, and I kinda liked it. I lifted my chin a little higher with the intention of resuming to style my hair.
Before I could, though, a flash of movement in my peripheral warned me of Emir’s incoming fist. The force of it was so blunt that it sent me flying off the back of my vanity seat. “Ahh!” I cried out in pain as my body crashed to the floor. My face instantlybegan to thump and pulse, letting me know there would be swelling and bruising to come.
I didn’t have a chance to gain my bearings, because Emir stumped over to me, then cocked his foot back just to crash it into my rib cage seconds later. I released a gust of air, trying to catch my breath, but it was useless. He’d successfully knocked the wind out of me as intended. In a quick motion, he snatched me up by my ponytail. His grip was so tight that I was afraid he was going to snatch every strand from the root and leave me baldheaded.
Hot tears trickled down my cheeks as he forced me to look at him despite the pain I was in. “I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you, but in case you’ve forgotten, let me remind you how this goes. If I say you can’t go somewhere, then you stay your fat ass in this house until I give you permission to leave. Am I clear?”
His words were sharp like ice shards as they stabbed me in the heart. How could I have ever thought this man loved me? Every opportunity he got, he made my life a living hell. The real reason for my tears was because I was so fucking fed up with being Emir’s punching bag and personal sex toy. I wanted out of this fucking marriage. The last two years of my life had been hell, and I knew without a doubt that I wouldn’t survive a third one isolated in his world, where I had to pretend everything was fine when the cameras were out.
Emir Akeem was the current governor of South Carolina to the world, but he was the devil to me. I still couldn’t understand how a person could present themselves one way to the public and become a completely different person behind closed doors. You would think living a double life was draining, but Emir did it with ease. Or maybe he took all his frustration from his double life out on me.
Since I didn’t answer quick enough, he tightened his grip on my hair, which I wasn’t sure was even possible. His free hand came to the front of my throat, and he squeezed like he certainly wanted to end me now. I damn near welcomed it. All I wanted to do was go be with my family. I never thought I’d see the day I wished I’d never left home, but it had come.
My family wasn’t perfect, and I judged them harshly for the lifestyle they lived, but it was safer than this monstrosity I called a home. I knew they would burn this mansion to the ground to get me out if it came to it. All I had to do was call . . .
“Do I make myself clear, Harlo?”
Black spots began to appear in the corners of my mind. He released me right before I could welcome the darkness. “Yes!” I spat through bruised vocal cords, so it came out as a harsh whisper.
A satisfied smile appeared on his handsome face. Looks were oh so deceiving. Shuffling near the door had me turning that way to find his best friend, Rome, standing there watching his friend use his manpower against me. But I wasn’t surprised by his silence. No one ever helped me. Not his family and definitely not his evil ass biker friends. I didn’t know if everyone was afraid of him or they just didn’t care. Either way, I suffered this fate alone.
“Perfect.” He turned to the doorway and stood up, dusting off his hands as if he’d just done some hard labor or something. “Ready?” Rome nodded once, then disappeared as quickly as he’d shown up.
Emir walked over to my vanity as I remained crouched on the floor, waiting for him to leave me alone with my misery. I sucked in a sharp breath when he rummaged through my makeup drawer. He scooped up everything I used for my base, from foundation to concealer and powder. In the bathroom, I heard him slamming things around before coming back empty-handed.
“I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up,” he said over his shoulder, finally leaving me alone.
My bottom lip began to quake first as I stared after him. Seconds later, sobs ripped out of me as I allowed the weight of this marriage to fall on my shoulders. It was so heavy it nearly suffocated me. I stayed in a heap on the floor for only God knows how long, before the urge to see the damage he’d caused came over me.
Dragging myself up from the floor, I headed into the bathroom. I gawked at the mess he’d created with my makeup. He’d poured all my foundation down the drain and smashed everything else into dust, to ensure I wouldn’t be able to cover the damage from his fist. Slowly lifting my eyes to the mirror, I took inventory of my swollen eye. Because of my toffee complexion, it was going to be black by the end of the night.
