The Hearts We Burn Page 2

  “I want you to go home, and read Psalm 73:26,” she continued, scribbling her instructions on a notepad. “And I want you to write down a list of everything you have to be thankful for. I want us to do a little exercise next time you come in.”

  I shook my head, already dreading the assignment. “Come on, Evelyn. You know that’s not what I need.”

  “What do you need, Adria?”

  “Can’t you just write a prescription?” I said instead.

  “The antidepressants? You’re not due for a refill yet.” Evelyn stared at me a little longer, making me uncomfortable under her scrutiny. I averted my eyes.

  “I know. I just wanted to see if you could write something stronger,” I lied. “I’m not sure if it is really working for me.”

  “Let me be the judge of that,” she said with another one of her signature smiles as she handed me the scratch sheet of paper. Defeated, I rose to leave. A sudden swell of anger had me mumbling a quick goodbye before nearly running from the room. Dammit, I had been out of pills for two days, a supply that should have lasted me the rest of the month. I had figured Evelyn could just call in some more to my pharmacy, so I hadn’t prepared for her refusal. But fine, let her be on her Dr. Phil rampage. I knew someone who could get me that same medicine for cheaper anyway.

  Chapter 2

  Kimera

  How the hell did I get here?

  I sighed as I eyed the chiffon dress still hanging in the dress bag behind my door. I had long since finished my bath but I couldn’t bring myself to move from the bed. It wasn’t cold in the room at all, but the air tingled my damp skin as I sat naked on the bed. Even though the joyous sounds from the party happening right downstairs wafted up to greet me, still I didn’t budge. Exhaustion, stubbornness, or, hell, maybe both, had me narrowing my eyes at the nauseatingly gorgeous garment that probably cost somewhere in the few thousand range. Just another one to go with the hundred others stuffed in my oversized closet.

  I couldn’t bring myself to look around the spacious bedroom that was the size of a medium apartment. Couldn’t bring myself to lay eyes on what I had sold my soul for. Outside my window, a majestic view of the Dallas, Texas, skyline stretched out in the distance. In another time and place, I would have felt compelled to explore the cultural sights and sounds of being in the city for the first time. Instead, I’d been trapped in this place for the past three months. And for what? A lavish mansion and expensive trinkets? My eye had been on the trophy and here I had become the damn trophy. Glass case and all.

  A few years ago, I had done something stupid. My very rich and very married boyfriend Leo had asked me to be a part of his polyamorous relationship, being involved with his two other love partners, or wives as he said, in exchange for a happily ever after. It would be temporary as far as I was concerned. Get in, funnel away his money, and get out. Little did I know just how drastically my life would change after I said, “I do.”

  One of the adjoining bedrooms had been converted to my closet. Open-faced shelves displayed more than a hundred pair of designer shoes and matching purses. A luxe loveseat sat in the middle of the room, nearly buried under a mass of shopping bags and shoeboxes from Leo’s last apology.

  I crossed to it now, fingering the rows of pastel blouses and tailored slacks, some still hanging in plastic protectors from the dry cleaners. I almost missed being able to just snatch some wrinkled jeans and a faded sweatshirt from the wire hangers. Even though I didn’t go any damn where, Leo didn’t like me stepping out of my room in anything less than heels and makeup. His father’s prosperous status had made him the unofficial king of his country, which had made Leo the recognized prince. So I had to uphold the delicate image of his trophy princess, and at first, I had eaten it up to the fullest. Now it was just downright annoying.

  A firm knock on the door brought my attention back to the task at hand. I didn’t bother answering because it wasn’t like it was a request to open the door. It was Kareem telling me to hurry my ass up.

  The man was introduced as my bodyguard, which was complete bullshit. It was more than obvious Leo had hired him to watch me, make sure I kept up the visage as the dutiful and loving wife, not the hostage I really was. It seemed futile to me because it wasn’t like I had any clue where I was.

  Leo had flown me from Atlanta to Dallas and had taken my phone and every phone in the house. With the exception of the backyard, I hadn’t been outside, let alone been able to leave the property. I was miserable, but the tears were long gone. In its place, I just felt hollow, an empty shell of the Kimera I used to be.

  “Saida,” Kareem called, the command laced in his gruff tone.

  “I’m coming, damn,” I snapped and rose to my feet.

  No, not Kimera anymore. She had died according to the doctored police report. No, now it was Saida, because it meant, what did Leo say? The fortunate one. Not quite fitting since I was anything but fortunate. And apparently, Saida needed to get her ass down to that party before Leo came up looking for her. And then she would be in an even bigger mess.

  I slipped on the dress, not bothering to stop and admire how the tailored fit hugged my curves, not caring how the expensive material felt against my skin. My hair had grown a lot, and now fell in feathered layers at my shoulders. I hated it. But Leo didn’t leave me much choice with my looks now. I used my hands to smooth down flyaways and crossed to my vanity for my jewelry.

  I ignored another knock as I fastened my earrings. I wasn’t surprised when the door opened and Kareem’s huge frame stood in the doorway. I rolled my eyes.

  “Damn, what did you think I was going to do?” I said, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Sneak out the window and shimmy down the fire escape?” My tone was sarcastic, though I had considered the idea on several occasions.

  Kareem exaggerated a glance at his watch. “Leo’s waiting.”

  I sucked my teeth and stormed to the door. “You would think you had enough balls to follow your own orders instead of just doing what Leo tells you to do,” I said. “He tells you to come get me and here you are. Don’t you have a mind of your own?” My snide remark didn’t seem to faze him as he stepped to the side to allow me to pass. I didn’t expect much of a reaction, but his lack thereof pissed me off nonetheless.

  Instead of heading to the staircase, I kept straight and continued down the hall, not caring when Kareem followed. The door at the end was cracked and a little sliver of light from the nightlight shown through. I immediately pasted a smile on my face as I quietly eased in and left the door slightly ajar behind me.

  Jamal slept peacefully in his crib, his tiny body folded in the Spiderman sheets and comforter. He slept with his mouth open, just like his dad, and it almost made my heart hurt how every day he looked more and more like the man I despised.

  I sighed at the thought. No matter how much I had lied and schemed, or how much I didn’t want Leo to be Jamal’s father, now the resemblance was undeniable. I had been having an affair with the man I loved, Jahmad, during my arrangement with Leo and, for a while, had convinced Jahmad the baby was his. But when he found out the truth, he had left me for his ex-fiancée. Between my deception and CeeCee’s pregnancy, I guess she had been the obvious choice.

  Another movement shifted my eyes to the toddler bed across the room. Leo Jr., looking like Jamal’s twin, also slept snoring lightly. My other son now. I didn’t immediately welcome the idea of being Mommy to Leo’s other child by his second wife, but now that both his other wives had been killed, who was left? Plus, seeing the boys together warmed my heart. They were the only piece of light in this fucked up situation.

  I planted soft kisses on both of their cheeks, and stared a moment longer. When I knew I couldn’t stall anymore, I snuck back out to the hall.

  Even in the midst of the guests and idle party chatter, I felt Leo’s eyes on me as I descended the stairs. Fear, or maybe defiance, had me turning from the crowded great room into the kitchen. I was sure my tardiness coupled with my little esca
pe tactic was going to have him in my ear later. But to hell with him. I couldn’t deal with his shit now. And it wasn’t like he was going to check me in front of all his precious birthday guests. Not when he had to keep up his perfect image instead of showing everyone what an abusive, low-down, deceptive asshole he really was.

  “Mrs. Saida,” the chef, Fernando, greeted me as I entered. “Drink?”

  “Please.”

  Technically, I wasn’t supposed to be in here. Leo didn’t like me in the kitchen with ‘the help,’ as he described it. Still, this area was one of the few places that felt like home to me. Probably because Fernando was damn near a magician and could make anything from a fried lobster dinner, to down-home soul food fixings with nothing but a skillet and some Lawry’s seasoned salt. I hated my situation but his meals were always something I looked forward to. Even now, he and his staff had the delicious aroma of Italian spices hanging thick in the air and my mouth watered.

  As was customary, Fernando went to the bar and within minutes, had sat his little signature fruit cocktail on the marble countertop in front of me. I downed it in two gulps and relaxed as the buzz immediately took over. That was another thing I loved about this man. He had a heavy hand when it came to the liquor.

  “Dinner will be served at eight thirty,” Fernando said, taking his place back behind the stove. “I hope you like. Fernando special recipe.” I smiled, the first genuine smile in what seemed like forever.

  “Fernando, every recipe is your special recipe,” I said. “And you know I always like it.”

  My grin widened when the hint of a blush colored the man’s cheeks.

  “Saida.”

  Leo’s voice chilled the air and I turned and stared at the man framing the doorway. Funny how the features that had attracted me to this man all those years ago were the same ones that disgusted me now. Hell, just his presence made me want to bend over and toss up the acid in my stomach.

  I didn’t move as Leo closed the distance between us, placing his arm around my waist. He kissed my cheek, reeking of cigars and alcohol. “You were gone for a minute,” he said, and even though his voice was hushed, I still heard the edge of his temper lacing the words.

  “I couldn’t decide what to wear,” I said. “And I wanted to check on the boys.”

  I caught a sideways look at him as his eyes turned to narrow at Fernando. “Looks like you’re in here flirting with the cook.”

  I rolled my eyes and tapped my finger on the empty glass in front of me.

  “I was just getting a—”

  His grip tightened around my waist and I inhaled sharply at the tight pinch on my flesh. He smiled at me, his words seeping through teeth. “It’s my birthday,” he said. “And I need my wife by my side.” He pulled me closer until I was nose-to-nose with him. “Get your ass to the party. Now.” This time, he released me, but instead of letting me walk alone, he let his hand brush down my arm to lace his fingers with mine. He led the way, half-yanking me along.

  We entered the great room and all eyes immediately turned to us. A few pictures were snapped and, because he expected it, I forced my lips back into a tight grin. “I found her,” he announced. “You know I can’t go too long without my lovely wife.” A few “aaawws” and chuckles lifted and Leo leaned in to kiss me softly on my lips. A huge contrast to the vice grip he had on my hand.

  It seemed like Leo had flown all of his family over from Ivory Coast. Why, I didn’t know. It wasn’t like they were even close. These same people I hadn’t seen since our little faux wedding two years ago, not even at our little courthouse ceremony a few months ago. The whole thing felt like some kind of three-ring circus act as opposed to genuine interest in Leo’s celebratory event. I guess it really was no different from my own presence here because Lord knows if I’d had a choice, I would have been anywhere else.

  I thought again about the little marriage thing (because that’s really the only label that made sense, a thing). It was almost mechanical and I was just physically going through the motions as I again pledged to love, honor, and obey this man I could barely stand to look at. He, on the other hand, had seemed too damn happy, like he had finally won his prize. I didn’t know whether the reason for his smile was me, or the fact that Tyree, his boyfriend, stood right next to him as his “best man.” Either way, he was clearly relishing my misery.

  I stood stiff as a few people hugged and gushed over me, told me how beautiful I was while enfolding me in entirely too much perfume and African garb. They asked me about my life and my babies and, if I wasn’t mistaken, I detected a hint of jealousy in the overly-cheerful smiles. I wished I could ease their little envy and tell them that they could have every bit of this shit. A few people, Leo’s aunts I believe, even went as far as to kiss my forehead and I cringed under the pleasantries, fighting back tears as Leo pulled me tighter. No one seemed to notice, or care for that matter, my obvious disdain. That would be too much like right.

  “Son.” Obi Owusu, Leo’s father, walked up, his arms outstretched for a hug. Leo let me go long enough to embrace his idol and the two shared a grin, like some secret family language. Obi then turned in my direction and wrapped his arms around me next. I shrank under the awkward gesture. “So good to see you again,” Obi said, planting a huge kiss on my check. “Saida, is it?”

  “You too, Mr. Owusu,” I said, because I felt obligated to. The little exchange was forced because I was certain the man knew my name. Both this one and my real one.

  Obi nodded to three women who lingered by the bar, giggling among themselves. “You remember my wives, right? Amora, Yana, and Natasha?”

  I nodded, noting the new face among the group. Leo’s mother had passed of cancer and it looked like Obi had already secured her replacement.

  “Aren’t they beautiful, Son?” Obi turned to Leo and gave him a slap on the back. “Wait until you get you some more. I know Saida here isn’t enough.”

  Leo chuckled his discomfort and I could only roll my eyes at the accuracy of the statement. Of course, I wasn’t enough. Not when he was sneaking off to Tyree every chance he got. Still he couldn’t very well tell his father that. Leo had made it clear he had to keep his relationship with Tyree hidden because his father would disown him, leaving him vulnerable to whatever danger and consequences that were tangled up with the Owusu bloodline, and there seemed to be a lot of both. So, his bright idea was to have me, his public and true wife, as his cover to hide his little male plaything on the side. The idea was revolting but after he had threatened the life of my best friend Adria and my son Jamal, I hadn’t had much of a choice.

  Immediately, the thought of my friend brought on a wave of sadness. The last time I had seen Adria, she had been beaten, tied up, and left in a storage closet. All in an effort to get me to cooperate. Of course, it had worked and though Leo assured me and reassured me he had sent help for Adria once we boarded the plane to our new life, I had absolutely no way of knowing for sure other than his word which didn’t mean a damn thing to me. So every day I was left with the uncertainties and it was killing me. Had she been saved in time? What about her babies?

  “I got a call.” Strangely, Leo was now whispering to his father and the two were leaned in so close I didn’t even know if I had actually heard the words or just read his lips.

  Obi turned his eyes on me and sitting his hand on the small of my back, steered me in the direction of the bar. “Saida, why don’t you go over there and say hello,” he suggested with a smile. “Let me and my son have a little privacy.”

  Grateful for the reprieve, I made my way through the crowd to the bar. I could use some privacy of my own. “What are you having, Beautiful?” the bartender asked as I leaned on the countertop.

  “She’ll have one of these.” One of Obi’s wives, I couldn’t remember which one, lifted her glass in the air. Obediently, the bartender pulled out various alcohol bottles to begin the mysterious concoction.

  “Saida, right,” the woman said with a smile, her thick
French accent weighted under each word. She didn’t bother waiting for a response. “I’m Yana.” She gestured to her companions, all equally beautiful. “This is Amora and Natasha Owusu. You’re Leo’s wife, right?”

  I smiled my response, but didn’t bother opening my mouth. I immediately got that this one was the self-proclaimed leader of the trio. She reminded me of Leo’s first wife, Tina. She knew good and damn well I was Leo’s wife.

  The bartender handed me the drink and I took a hesitant sip, decided the liquor was too weak, but kept on sipping so as to keep my mouth occupied. Maybe then, I wouldn’t have to play nice with these women.

  “Good, huh?” Yana continued with a wink. She tapped her glass to mine. “Cheers. To love and happiness with the Owusu men.”

  I wanted to throw up. Point me to the love and happiness because it damn sure wasn’t here.

  “How long you been married to Leo?” Natasha spoke up, her English broken.

  Maybe it was the alcohol getting to me but I didn’t bother trying to sugarcoat my answer. “Too long,” I said boldly. “And it’s not like I have a choice.”

  Natasha glanced at the others in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  Before I could comment again, Yana grabbed my forearm and pulled me away from the other two. Gone was the confidence she previously exuded. Her face had paled to nearly sheet-white with fear. She lowered her voice as we found a quiet corner away from the chatter. “Look, I know you’re new with this,” she said. “But trust me. You don’t want to go advertising that.”

  “It’s true,” I said. “I’m being held hostage. Leo won’t let me go. I need to get home to my family.”

  Yana ssshhhed me and quickly glanced around. “Listen, I get it,” she said. “But you can’t say things like that. Obi would kill you.”

  The comment stopped my ramble and I just watched Yana, unsure how to digest the news. She went on. “Look, I know it’s not easy. But in time you’ll forget your family when you realize we are your family now. If Leo is anything like Obi . . .” She trailed off, shaking her head, and after a moment, pulled me into a hug. Her voice was barely a whisper as she murmured in my ear. “Just be careful.” She kissed my cheek and pulled away, heading back to her little group.