Nobody’s Child (New Life Tabernacle Series Book 1) (19 page)

M
akayla grabbed Antoine's arm
. "I just want my stuff."

He turned, slowly. His eyes, hard and piercing. "You still haven't learned your lesson about putting your hands on me?"

He advanced on her and she raised her hands in surrender.

"I'm not trying to start nothing. Just tell me what you want for it and I’ll give it to you.” She already knew what he wanted. It was the only thing he’d wanted since she’d moved in. “I’ll do anything you want.
Anything
.”

He studied her through narrowed eyes, then looked at his boys, rubbing his chin. “What’d I say about them church girls?” He looked Makayla over, licked his lips and grinned. “You real determined, ain’t you? What you got in that bag, girl? Diamonds?"

She could tell from his mocking tone, he already knew the answer.

"Please, Antoine."

Her pleading brought another smile to his face. He shrugged.

"Wish I could help, but I ain’t nothing but ‘hood. You better than that, huh? Wait,” he said, putting his finger in the air. “I know. Call your college boy. I bet he can replace it."

“Antoine, please…”

Then his eyes came alive and his smile spread further into a wolfish grin. "Better yet, call old girl with the Jaguar. She seemed a little uptight when she was here earlier. Maybe I could loosen her up for you."

He snickered as he grabbed at his crotch with his free hand and Makayla took the opportunity to slap him across the face with everything she had.

The next few moments happened so fast, her mind only processed them as freeze-frames of time.

The shock in his eyes.

His fist in her gut.

The struggle to breathe.

The drop to the ground.

The chill of the concrete.

The realization her belongings were lost forever.

While she lie on the ground, still gasping for air, he grabbed the front of her shirt and yanked her upper body toward him. He punched her and then got in her face, cussing and yelling, but she couldn't have cared less what he said.

She’d lost everything. In one day. Every thing and every one that mattered. Gone. There was nowhere left to go and no one left to go to.

So be it.

Makayla tilted her head, struggling to hold it upright. She looked into Antoine's contorted face, and then, spit in it.

For a few seconds, everything became silent. Then quicker than she could register the movement, Antoine had his gun out and angled down on her skull. The friend with the mohawk jumped back.

“Naw, man! Naw!”

Antoine's eyes were locked with Makayla's, so she saw the flash of confusion in them when she whispered, “Do it."

No doubt, he'd expected her to beg for her life. Plead for his mercy. But she was done begging. She was done pleading. She was done with all of it.

Her staring him in the face, silently daring him to pull the trigger, seemed to infuriate him. His lips snarled and his breaths came in short, hard puffs. She closed her eyes and waited.

"Youngblood…”

Makayla opened her eyes and saw Rodney just over Antoine’s shoulder. He had his arms up, McDonald's bags in both hands.

"Now you know I ain’t trying to get in your business. You run the street and I respect that. You know I do. But even you gotta think one dead body today is enough. Too much police attention on one block ain’t good for nobody. You feel me?"

Antoine continued to stare at Makayla as she stared back.

"Don't get me wrong. I see how you feel. I don’t know what she said or did, but I do know this one’s got a mouth on her." Rodney laughed and Makayla could tell from the sound of it, he was scared out of his mind. "How about this? You let me take her upstairs, get her out your way, and you can go on about your business. And you won't even have to worry about her again. I'll make sure she stay out your hair. She done learned her lesson anyway. Ain't you, girl?"

Makayla let her eyes drift to Rodney. His darted back and forth between her and Antoine.

Antoine worked his jaw a bit, but then opened his hand and let go of her shirt, watching her drop back to the ground. He straightened up and stared down at her as he stuffed his gun in to the waistband of his sagging pants.

“If I go back to prison, it sure as hell won't be for you.” He kicked her in the side. “You ain’t even worth the bullet I'd have to waste to do it." He backed up and shook his thumb and index finger in Rodney's direction. "Crackhead just saved your life."

With one final expletive, he and his boys made their way to his Cadillac across the street. They weren't three feet away when Rodney dropped the bags he was holding, fell against the wall and slid down slowly.

He ended up on the ground next to Makayla, hand over his chest, blowing out air. "It's too cold to know for sure, but I'm pretty sure I just wet myself." He looked at Makayla. "What you messing with Antoine for, girl? You trying to get yourself killed?"

She was surprised he had to ask. She’d thought it was obvious.

R
odney set
Makayla up on his couch that night, but she was in far too much pain to sleep.

You’re back at the beginning…

It was so ridiculous, she wanted to laugh.

She
was
back where she’d started. Bruised, bleeding and alone. It was a little over five years ago, but it felt more like five lifetimes…

I
t had started
out like any other day. Makayla had gone to school, then work. Most people paid cash for the jobs she did around the neighborhood. Same deal at the barbershop. But the Monroes paid for her babysitting services a whole month at a time and preferred to do so by check. Because of that, she had to wait in line at the store to get it cashed. By the time she got home, it was already dark.

Damien, Kim's fifteen-year-old son, was holed up in his room, playing video games, as usual. Makayla figured he’d been at it since he’d gotten home from school, seeing as he hadn't bothered to turn on any lights in the house.

She decided to order a pizza since Kim would be home soon and mad as hell if there wasn't anything to eat. After making the call, she went in to the kitchen to find the place a wreck.

She was already dog tired and now she’d have to hurry and clean up before Kim saw it. Fine. But Damien was going to get an earful first.

She swung open his door hard enough to make it hit the wall and get his attention.

"I'm so sick of you, Damien! You're practically a grown man! Why does the kitchen look like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich exploded in there?”

He didn't turn around as his fingers moved furiously over the buttons of his controller.

"I was hungry."

"I don't care if you're starving. Clean up after yourself! I'm not your maid!”

When he didn't respond, Makayla stormed in the room and stood in front of the television, blocking his view. That got his attention.

“Kayla!”

He tried kicking her, but she kept jumping out of his reach. The online players he was supposed to be covering were getting slaughtered and he became so agitated, Makayla felt she’d made her point. Plus, watching him try to kick her while keeping his eyes on the screen by bobbing back and forth, had lightened her mood.

"Dummy," she said, gently knocking over his game console with the toe of her shoe.

As she expected, he flew into a total fit.

"What the hell? Do you have any idea how much this thing cost? It's brand-new! Get out of my room!”

By then, she was already halfway out and hardly listening anyway.

In her own room, she reached between the mattress and box spring and pulled out the folded manila envelope she kept hidden there. She added part of the cash from the Monroe check to the sizable stash. She didn’t like keeping that much money in the house, but at fourteen, she couldn’t open a savings account without Kim knowing about it.

And as far as Kim knew, Makayla always gave her all the money she earned. If she knew she'd been holding some back… Makayla didn't even want to think about it. Hopefully, she’d be long gone before Kim ever had the chance to find out.

She had plans. Big plans. And they all came down to the contents of that envelope. Besides the money, it contained two things, far more precious.

The first was a pendant necklace her grandmother gave her. It had belonged to her mother. The other was an article she’d torn out of a travel magazine about Denver, Colorado.

She’d never been there, but from all the pictures she'd seen, it was gorgeous. Her grandmother once said her mother had mentioned dreaming about living there. Makayla could certainly see why, it was stunning.

Her plan was this: She’d keep adding to the money she already had until she graduated. That would happen sooner rather than later because she’d already tested out of one grade and was working to skip one more. After that, she’d find the church her mother was from. Even if she no longer attended, odds were there'd be someone that knew where she was. Maybe after they were reunited, they could go to Denver together. Makayla had already sent off for brochures from CU Denver. She was sure she’d be accepted. Her guidance counselor told her with transcripts like hers, she’d be able to get into any school she wanted. All she had to do was stay focused.

Makayla flattened, then smoothed out the article on her bed and smiled. “Blue skies, here we come…”

When she heard the front door open, she stuffed everything back into the envelope and shoved it between the mattresses. She wasn't even up off her knees before Kim started yelling.

"Makayla!"

Makayla came into the front room to find Kim apologizing to her latest man, Skee, about the mess.

"This is why I can’t never have nobody over here. These two nasty kids. Make me sick…”

Skee seemed uninterested. "Kim, I gotta go. The place closes in an hour."

"Okay, baby. But look, Skee, I'm serious. They check the petty cash at the end of every week, so you gotta bring it back before then, okay?"

He shifted his weight and stuffed his hands in his jean pockets. "I heard you the first ten thousand times, Kimberly. You gonna give me the money or not? I ain’t got all night."

Kim made a pouty face and kissed him on the lips. “Ooh, look at you. Getting all angry. I guess I better hurry then, huh?” She playfully smacked the side of his thigh and sashayed to her bedroom.

Makayla could see exactly where this was headed. “Skee” had no intention of paying Kim back and Kim was too wrapped up in him to see it.

He looked at Makayla, where she stood in the kitchen, cleaning off the counters. She avoided his gaze, but knew he was checking her out. If there was a creep in a thirty-mile radius, Kim was sure to find him and bring him home.

"Hey," he said, coming to the kitchen pass through. "What's your name?"

Kim needed to hurry up already…

"Makayla."

"Makayla. That's pretty. Kim didn't tell me she had a daughter."

"She doesn't."

He nodded and tilted his head sideways. "Yeah, all right. Even better."

Before he could say anything else, Kim was back in the front room and tearing it up like a tornado. Makayla and Skee came to where she was. Makayla couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Kim on the verge of tears.

"What's wrong?"

"It's gone. That's what's wrong. It's gone."

Kim frantically swiped through the papers on the coffee table. Next she knocked over the pile of the last week's mail on the side table. Her face was a mask of sheer panic. Makayla had never seen her so undone.

“Okay. Okay. It's gonna be all right. I'll help you. What is it were looking for? The money?"

Kim stopped and grabbed the sides of her own head. "Oh my God, Makayla! Yes! The money! What else? Why do you have to be so damn simple all the time?”

Skee finally caught on to what all the commotion meant for him. "Wait a minute. Do you have the money or not, Kim?"

She immediately went to him, stroking his chest and talking to him like one would to soothe a child.

"I just misplaced it. That's all, baby."

"I don't got time for this, Kim. Either you got it or you don't."

“Skee—“

"You got it or you don't, Kim! What is it?"

“I…”

Makayla looked away. There was no love lost between her and Kim, but she didn't like him screaming at her. And she didn't like to see Kim trying to pacify him, either.

"It's got to be here somewhere. I just need to—“

He yanked her wrists away and stormed to the door. "You wasted my time."

He walked out and Kim ran after him, screaming and crying for him not to be like that. She was still screaming after him when Makayla heard tires screech away.

When Kim came back in, her arms hung at her sides and mascara streaked her face. Makayla debated whether she should attempt to comfort her. Finally, she just said, “You're probably tired and hungry. I ordered a pizza. It should be here soon. Why don't you go change? I'll bring you a plate when it gets here."

Kim said nothing. She just stared at Makayla, then crossed her arms and came so close, their faces were only inches apart.

"You think I'm stupid? Huh? Is that it?"

Makayla blinked. "What?"

"Where is it?"

"I don't know."

"I'm going to ask you one more time. Where. Is. It?"

"I swear, Kim. I have no idea—“

The sentence was cut off by the force of Kim's hand across Makayla's cheek. Makayla bent over and her palm instinctively moved to the red-hot sting that covered the side of her face.

Kim was screaming. "This is my job, little girl! My job! And I promise you, you’re gonna wish you never crawled out of bed this morning if you don't start talking!"

Still bent over, Makayla backed away, her hands up in defense. "Please, Kim. I promise, I promise. I'm telling you the truth."

Kim snatched hold of Makayla’s wrist and jerked her forward to hit her again. And again, and again, and again. Fueled by uncontrollable fury, her strikes were wild and aimless, landing across the head, face, ears, chest and neck.

Makayla tried to use her arms as cover, but her efforts made little difference. Even in the heat of the attack, her mind attempted to make sense of it. Kim had hit her before, but never like this. And while Kim lost her temper often, she was never reckless about it.

Whether it was due to frustration or Skee’s treatment or the prospect of losing her job—Kim turned into someone else. Once her knuckles became raw, she began striking Makayla with anything in her reach. When she finally stopped, it was only because she was stumbling and too winded to continue.

"All right," she said, huffing and puffing. "Keep your mouth shut then. I'm going to tear your room up. Wherever you put that money, I'm gonna find it."

At first, Makayla thought,
Good luck…
Then she remembered her envelope full of cash and her chest tightened around her heart. She tried to roll over and get up, but the room wouldn't stop spinning and her legs couldn’t obey the signals from her brain.

Though her vision was blurry from the blood in her eyes, she could make out Damien standing in the doorway of his bedroom. His fists were balled up and his eyes darted from Makayla on the floor to her open bedroom door where his mother screamed and threw things around.

That's when it dawned on Makayla.

The new game console.

She and Kim were the only two people in the house who worked. She hadn't given Damien any money. And as far as she knew, Kim hadn't either.

It was him.

He took the money.

And he stood there, watching, completely silent.

“Tell her.” Blood sputtered as she spoke, running down the side of her mouth and chin. “Please, tell her."

For a moment, she thought he would. His eyes were sad and it looked as if he mouthed the words, "I'm sorry." But maybe she just imagined it because, next thing she knew, he backed into his room and closed the door.

Seconds may have passed, perhaps minutes. Kim crouched over her again. She grabbed her hair and yanked her head up, shoving a wad of cash in her face.

"Next time, be smart enough to pick a better hiding place, Little Miss Honor Roll." She released Makayla's hair, letting her head drop to the floor.

Kim stood and shook her head. There were tears in her eyes.

"I don't know why mama bothered to keep you and I sure as hell don't know why she dumped you on me. But I wish to God I'd never laid eyes on you. All you've ever done is make my life hell. And for what? You're such a waste. You're not even worth the spit in your own mouth."

All Makayla could think about was the money she’d saved. It was what would get her to her mother. It was what would get them both to Denver. What would she do without it?

“But my mother…”

The words were garbled, but not so much that Kim couldn’t understand them. She crouched down near Makayla’s head.

“Your mother…what? What?” She paused, as if waiting for Makayla to finish. “Uh huh. You can’t say nothing ‘cause you don’t know nothing. Not really. Mama was always worried about your little feelings and how you’d adjust and all that mess. I bet she sugarcoated the whole thing for your benefit. But let me explain something to you once and for all. Your mother didn’t want you. She
never
wanted you. She didn’t even bother to give you a name. Left it to us, just like everything else.” Kim’s voice broke. “And to this day, I hate her for it.”

Kim stood and Makayla found she could no longer fight the drowsiness that pulled at her. As Kim walked away, she watched her, along with everything else in the room, fade into blackness.