Page 55 of Love Delayed

Putting her fork down, she stood, walked around the table to my seat, and wrapped her arms around my neck. She kissed the side of my face, and I felt her tear drops wet my skin.

“Baby, why are you crying?” I asked, pulling her onto my lap.

“Marcus, I prayed for this for so long and felt the Most High had stopped listening to me. But on this day, He answered my prayers. In His perfect timing, he answers prayer, and I’m crying because I’m so happy.”

I pulled her close and held onto her tight. My heart swelled, and my love for her grew stronger with every beat. Although it took us over ten long years to get back to each other, the delay was all worth it because what we now had couldn’t be dismantled by anything or anyone.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Eliana

Wednesday could not come fast enough, and I almost leaped for joy when Mrs. Coleman texted that she was outside. Rush had come by the last two days, pressuring me to get an abortion. I wanted to put a bullet in his chest or take a sharp knife to his throat, but I now had my baby to worry about. He was not worth me leaving my child without its mother while I sat in a prison cell doing time behind his sorry ass. I often questioned if Rush loved or even cared about me, and I got my answer when he forced himself on me the night before. I knew then he didn’t give a shit about me or the child that I was carrying.

I kept asking him to leave, but he refused. He took what he wanted and afterward had the nerve to say my pussy wasn’t even good. I lay there for hours, crying and praying while feeling helpless. But why would God listen to an evil whore like me? I convinced myself the ache between my legs was punishment for my sinful ways.

I had done a lot of things in my lifetime, but never had a man force himself inside of me the way Rush had done to me that night. The man I loved, craved, and desired for so many years had treated me like dogshit on the bottom of his shoes. I thought about all the times we shared, thinking our shit was real, but it was all about his coldhearted ass. He would’ve rather his kid be slaughtered so we could move on to the next victim than choose to live legit and give our child a chance at a good life.

“Listen, El, we don’t have a lot of time to waste before your figure goes to shit. No high-valued man is gon’ wanna look at you if you lose this snatched waist,” he told me in those exact words.

Then, before violating my body, he informed me that he had already made the appointment and would be back the next morning at eight o’clock to pick me up.

“Now come on and ride this dick before you’re down for a couple of weeks,” he said with a smirk.

Disgusted, I told him no and refused to oblige him. Not happy with my rejection, the crazy muthafucka grabbed me by my neck and pushed me against the wall.

“Who in the fuck you think you talkin’ to, El? You must got me confused with Marcus or one of them other trick niggas you service. You’re mine, bitch! Do you hear me? Now do what you do,” he said and shoved me to the kitchen floor.

Ignoring my cries for him to stop, he pulled my head back by my hair, whipped out his dick, and started rubbing it against my face and mouth. The thought of pleasing him orally made me ill to my stomach. I got so nauseous that vomit erupted from my mouth, which made him even more irate. As he grabbed me by my ankles and dragged me into the living room, I cried, shouted, and pleaded for him to stop. Once he stopped dragging me, he dropped to his knees and pushed my legs back while hovering over me. Then he spit into his hand, stroked himself a few times, leaned in to spit on my private parts, and then rammed himself inside of me. The pain ripped through my body like I had been stabbed with a pitchfork. The whole time, I continued begging him to stop, but it seemed my cries were only turning him on more.

I had been fucking since I was fifteen years old, but what I experienced with him was worse than the night I lost my virginity. The more I cried, the harder he thrust in and out of me, and no matter how much spit he used, it did not lubricate my center enough. My walls burned with every stroke. Wanting to escape the pain, I turned my head, shut my eyes tight, and prayed for him to finish soon. Two minutes later, he groaned, climaxed, and collapsed on top of me. I was pinned under his body weight for what felt like forever until he rolled off of me.

Before leaving, he reminded me of when he would pick me up the next morning and to be ready. Even after I heard the door slam shut, I couldn’t move. I lay there on the floor crying, praying, and crying some more until I had no tears left to shed. Somehow, I found the strength to get up off the floor, and once I did, I headed straight to the bathroom to shower. Then, after scrubbing any traces of Rush from my body, I packed a suitcase and left, taking anything I had of value with me. I put all the keys in the mailbox, including the one to the vehicle Rush provided me, and prayed I’d never have to go back to that place.

I took an Uber to my store, and once there, I left all the lights off so it would appear that no one was inside to anyone passing by. I slept in my office. Since Rush did not have a key to my store and the alarm system was activated, I felt safer there.

The next day, I stayed there waiting for Marcus’s mother. When she finally texted and said she was on her way, I fully disclosed what had happened in case Rush was lurking nearby. I didn’t want her to be caught off guard or harmed while trying to help me.

She replied, thanking me for the heads-up but saying she wouldn’t be alone. When I got the alert that she was outside, I grabbed my suitcase and moved quickly toward the door. She had two other cars with her, and four men stood outside of them. I rushed over, and the cars immediately pulled off once we all got in.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Coleman. I don’t know how to repay you.”

“You can repay me by starting over and making an honest life for you and that kid,” she said.

I looked at her in shock, wondering how she knew.

“Marcus and I talked, and he told me everything. I know we live in a shitty world, and sometimes people are forced into shit they don’t want to do. I have been in the hospitality field all my life and have learned to recognize victims of trafficking. About twenty years ago, I decided to be a part of the solution instead of turning a blind eye like others. Long story short, I have been helping women who can’t help themselves for a long time. So when I drop you off, they will help you, and if I ever see you again, you won’t be Eliana.”

I listened and nodded.

“Just take advantage of whatever they can offer you. Chicago is a great city, but you might end up in a small, quiet town you don’t like. It’ll be best for you and your baby. You will both have a chance.”

“What about Rush?”

“Don’t worry yourself about him. He’s much too simple to find you,” she joked, grabbing my hand.

“Why are you doing this for me? I hurt your son.”

“Hurt people hurt people. The cycle has to end somewhere,” she replied, then turned her head to look out the window for the remainder of the ride.