Teresa Prince a small town girl with a big heart had dreams of working in law enforcement her goals are deterred when she is violated in the worse way possible. Will she overcome this tragedy and emerge triumphant with her mind and soul intact? Or will the mental anguish be too much for her to bare?
James a twisted soul with ideals of love and grandeur with a woman that doesn’t feel the same for him, at least not yet. That will all change if he has anything to do with it. To complicate matters worse her old flame has stepped into the picture. Will James be able to win her over and make her the love of his life before the flame is re-kindled between her and her ex? Or will he be left in the cold while they live happily ever-after?
Black Love was always more white collar than rider, when an unfortunate incident occurs in a small town in Illinois he rushes to the side of his ex-fiancé to attempt to save the day. It doesn’t take long to figure out that not everyone wants to see justice served. On top of that his feelings for his past love may not only cause conflicts in the case but also add a rift to his new relationship. Will Black put his past behind him and find out who violated Teresa?
In this fast paced tale of pain, misguided passion, and lost love we follow these three souls as they embark on a journey of romance, rape, and retribution. When there’s no one to count on but yourself will you stand and deliver? Or bend and break? Each will be faced with that question in the midst of questioning what they once thought was true. They all find out that when love turns to war, someone has to be the Piece Keeper!
Targeted Age Group:: 16-50
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I have a love of writing complex characters that change and grow over the course of a story. I also have a fondness for crime fiction stories. Sort of anti-heroes so that’s why I created Black Love.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
I came up with the character Black Love from mixing him with part Shaft and part Perry Mason. Of course I had to add my own twists and make him a 21st century bad ass but I believe I meshed it all together well.
The streets were desolate and cold. James shook off the chill that shot through his bones as he pulled the skull cap slightly down over his eyebrows not leaving very much of his face to be seen. He took his time moving to the ATM machine. He had transferred a small portion of his money from the off shore account to his account in the states. He had been in Burr Ridge for almost a week now. Nothing or no one, other than Witherspoon, was connecting him to what happened to Teresa or the others he’d dumped in the river over the past year. He knew Witherspoon would never speak and their employer had no idea who it was and didn’t want to know. He felt bad about not trying to bring Teresa. He contemplated that she was better off without him. He slid the bank card into the machine, keyed in the code followed by the amount he wanted to withdraw, and then waited for the machine to spit the bills out. Once the money was out he retrieved his cash and card and went back to his car. He had nothing to worry about yet he still felt com-pelled to get out of Illinois. He wanted to see his sister before he left because he didn’t know when he would see her again. As he climbed into his car and started the engine he heard the sound of a click behind his head.
“You can have the money and car,” he said.
The person behind him remained silent.
James spoke again. “It doesn’t have to end badly. I ha-ven’t seen your face so you can just take the cash and go. Everyone’s happy.”
“This isn’t just a robbery,” the woman’s said as she pulled the trigger.
“You scream and I’ll cut your fucking throat,” the chief of detectives of Vermillion County in Danville, IL whispered in Teresa Prince’s ear as he pressed the serrated hunting knife across her throat.
She squealed as a thin sliver of blood ran down her neck dripping onto her blouse. His cologne invaded her nostrils. Her gag reflexes made her feel as if she may vomit as she felt his sweaty palms grasp at her thighs making his way up her leg and underneath her skirt trespassing against her body encroaching upon her soul. Her face was a wet pallet of tears and snot.
“Please don’t… don’t do this,” she begged as she felt the thin material covering her vagina rip free. Her body tensed up, the hairs on every inch of her body stood as she felt his rough calloused hands between her legs. Her hips jerked as she felt him jab his thick fingers into her.
“Help me! Please don’t let him do this to me,” she pleaded once more barely audible to the demented audience that stood watching.
Teresa didn’t know what hurt her more. The fact that she was being violated or the painful truth of not only was it happening in a police station but by the very people she paid her taxes to that were supposed to protect her. She held her breath as she felt him enter her from behind. The other officers in the room stood around cheering him on as he grunted and pounded into her until his fluid squirted inside her body. Stepping back gasping for breath, Chief Witherspoon pulled his pants up from around his ankles with his salt and pepper hair matted to his pasty pale face from his sweat.
“My turn,” Officer Hunter said making his way towards
“Stand down officer,” Officer Foster said placing a hand on Hunter’s chest pushing him back. “She’s mine.”
Foster had to go through a series of things to prepare: re-move service weapon placing it on the table, unzipping pants to let them fall to the floor, pulling out a strap on penis from the open bag next to the service weapon. The others watched as Foster wrapped the strap-on around her waist, fastened it, and then approached Teresa with a glimmer in her eye. Grasping Teresa by the waist as she shivered in fear Foster guided her hips thrusting forward forcefully into Teresa’s buttocks. With each dry painful thrust Teresa cried out in agony as the woman sodomized her. Teresa wanted desperately to fight back yet she lay motionless with her face and chest against the table while her body and mind were paralyzed with fear. She took the mental, emotional, and physical abuse in fear that if she fought back she may die.
Each of the three officers took turns with the young woman who had been hired only months earlier as an intern. Through it all, including the hurt and humiliation, she felt the worst and most sickening feeling of all. It was something she could never shake. Goosebumps raced across her flesh as the creepy feeling took root and grew inside her mind. She could feel him watch-ing her. The feeling would keep her awake for a lifetime though she didn’t know who he was.
A Week Later
Teresa sat on the hospital bed at Carle Foundation covered in a backless nightgown and staring emotionless at nothing in particular. James Collins, an officer and her mentor at the department, sat near her bed. Feelings of confusion and anger stirred inside him. He didn’t know whether to sit quietly or to hold her hand and attempt to console her. He chose the latter; he reached out placing his hand on top of hers. She quickly pulled from his grasp placing both of her hands on her chest. James pulled back and stood up, stepping away from the bed.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
The door opened and the person she wanted desperately to see stood in the door way. She prayed he would come, yet she still had her reservations that he would. Standing in the door way it was almost as if God himself shined a heavenly light upon his physique. It was her ex-fiancé, Black Love. They hadn’t spoken to one another in almost a year. She had broken off the engagement through a text message then left Chicago and moved back to Danville. Black had a smaller stature as he was short in height standing at only five and a half feet. His frame was not muscular but also not scraggly. He worked out just enough to stay toned. He had a bald head, dark chocolate complexion, a goatee and white teeth.
Teresa could see the anger and hurt in his eyes. She couldn’t help but peek over his shoulders. She could see that the hallway outside of her room was crowded with uniformed police officers from her precinct. She turned her head in fear as she made eye contact with Chief Witherspoon just as the door closed. The look of fear on her face was not missed by either of the two men but they both interpreted it differently.
James moved across the room quickly to head Black off before he reached Teresa. “She doesn’t want you here,” he said sizing Black up with his fists clenched.
Black didn’t back down. He stared up at James unmoved by his police uniform or his size. He was almost two feet taller and at least a hundred pounds heavier. “Back up, James. It’s a little late to play hero. You should have been here to protect her that night.”
“Who the hell are you and…”
“Stop it! Both of you!” Teresa screamed with her face wet with tears. “James.”
He quickly turned and went to her side, retaking his seat. He thought of reaching for her hand but decided against it this time. “What is it my love?”
“Give me and Black sometime alone please. We need to talk.”
James sighed and stood to his feet. Black stood between him and the door unwilling to move. James brushed against his shoulder as he stormed from the room.
“How did you find out?” Teresa asked wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand.
“The same way I knew your boyfriend’s name.”
“He’s not my boyfriend and you have no right to keep tabs on me, Black. We aren’t together anymore.”
“You’re my girl.”
Teresa laughed. “Your girl? Did you not get the text mes-sage… oh what… a year ago?”
Black’s nose flared. That emotional wound still hadn’t healed. “Together or not you’ll always be my girl.”
“And what about Morena?”
Black cleared his throat. “Morena?” He was surprised that she had known about her.
“Don’t look confused. What? Suddenly you don’t know who Morena Suarez is?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Why are you worried about what’s going on with me here in another city when you are not only living with another woman, only a year after our break up, but you’re engaged to be married?”
Black approached the bed and sat down on the side of it placing his hand on her face. He brushed the hair from her eyes. “That’s not important, Baby Love.” That was his pet name he’d given her when they first started dating.
She pushed his hand from her face. “I’m not your Baby Love. Not anymore.” She turned her face from his.
With both hands he gently cupped her face and turned it so that they could see eye to eye.
“I’m not leaving until I get to the bottom of this. That fucker who did this to you is going to pay!”
“Leave it alone, Black.”
Black jumped to his feet. “Leave it alone!” he screamed without realizing.
Teresa placed her hand on his. “I know you’re upset but I just want this all to be over with.”
“It will be as soon as I—”
“Go home, Black. I don’t want you here.”
“Want me here or not I’m not leaving until justice is served. I’ve been re-assigned to the District Attorney’s office in Vermillion County.”
“You’re the new District Attorney?” She was astonished.
“No I’m A.D.A., but I’m on the case.”
“Get some rest. I’m done talking about it. I just got here. I didn’t even pack any clothes. I’m going shopping to pick up a few things to wear and some hygienic essentials then I’m going to see someone about renting a house for a few months. I’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up and take you home.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“It is.” He placed her hand to his lips and kissed it. “See you tomorrow.”
James sat alone in his apartment scouring the internet for any information he could about Black Love. He knew that’s who had come to see Teresa today. They had never met but the few times that he and Teresa had gone out that man was all she talked about. Black this, Black that. What the hell kind of name was Black Love anyway? So what they were once engaged! To hell with they’re history! That’s exactly what they had: history. I’m her future, he thought as he read through the newspaper article he found online in a Chicago newspaper. The headline read: Black Love District Attorney for Cook County Convicts Kingpin of Regional Drug Ring That Included Chicago, Detroit, and Racine, WI. He clicked another link to a website with Black’s name attached to it. The website opened to an article about a battered women’s shelter that Black co-founded with Teresa. The article showed a picture of the two of them hugging and smiling.
James felt the anger swell in his head as he stared at the pic-ture. He felt his temples on both sides of his head become tighter and tighter as if his head was trapped in a vice grip. His heart pounded as beads of sweat popped up wetting his forehead. Blood dripped from his nose. He didn’t like the idea of another man touching her. It was all he could think of while staring at the picture. Things were escalating in his mind. No matter what he did he kept reliving the pain wrenching night. Even now the horrible memory crept into his mind despite his will for it to go away. He closed his eyes and remembered.
The red Sedan with the shiny rims cruised to a sudden stop, shifted into reverse and parked. The night was quiet as the driver sat and watched, nervously looking through his rearview mirror every few seconds. He desperately wanted to be accept-ed into the circle. He was told to meet them in the catacombs for his “initiation” as they had put it. He had his reservations about going. He had been warned by others he worked with that being a part of the club meant quick advancements through the ranks but the things they did on the side were unethical at the least and in the worst illegal. Once in there was no out. Out, he thought. Why would I want out? He had done a few jobs already off the books. Just low level stuff like getting rid of a few scum bags. He had no issues with getting his hands dirty by digging a hole or sandbagging a body for the Middle Fork Vermilion River which connected Danville to Oglesby. They always had him meet to pick up the “passenger”. That’s what they called the body he needed to dispose of: “the passenger”. It was always at a different place but this time was a little different. He was to meet at the catacombs. The thought alone made him feel uneasy. He began to wheeze so he removed his asthma inhaler and took two puffs. Within moments he felt his breathing begin to regulate. He was almost thirty minutes late and he was sure that they had begun without him, doing whatever it is that they did. Just as he worked up the nerve to get out of the car and go into the building he heard a ruckus behind him. Stepping out of the car he removed a flashlight from the side compartment of his driver’s door. He flashed the light in the direction that he heard the noise coming from and the person froze throwing up their hands in front of their face in an attempt to block the light. He lowered the light.
“What are you doing out here, Brown?” the man asked re-ferring to the homeless man by his last name.
“You know… just doing me, Officer. Nice wheels. How long you had her?”
“Not long. Look Brown you know we told you about both-ering people out here.”
“Ah man! Ain’t nobody bothering nobody.”
“Let’s keep it that way. Now get on down the road.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” the elderly homeless man said as he scuffled past the owner of the Sedan.
He watched until he saw that Brown was out of sight then made his way around the back of the police station to an old shed. The department should have torn it down years ago. That’s how old towns were; always holding on to a piece of the past. Walking in, he pushed an old desk to the side revealing a hidden trap door. Lifting the old metal door he froze halfway through the process as he heard the door squeak. Once he was sure no one was watching he climbed into the hole and closed the door behind him. Very few knew about the secret passage. It was once used as a stop along the Underground Railroad for slaves escaping from the south. Walking down the damp corridor he came upon a door. He pressed his ear against it and listened before opening it. He heard voices but could not make out what it was they were saying. Now or never, he thought as he slowly opened the door. He was here at the catacombs.
Tip-toeing closer and closer to where he heard the voices he ducked behind a row of shelves and watched. He knew he should have intervened but he couldn’t. His legs wouldn’t move. He felt catatonic. He began to wheeze once more. Taking two puffs from his inhaler, he wiped the blood dripping from his nose on the sleeve of his jacket. It smeared on his inhaler as he stuffed it back into his pocket. He heard the voices cease. Someone asked about a noise in the back of the room and footsteps moved towards his direction. He easily backed away and made his way back to the hidden tunnel. As he climbed from the hole he could had sworn that he saw eyes in the dark looking at him. Rushing through the darkness, he hadn’t heard his inhaler fall from his pocket. He flashed the flashlight behind him, letting it sweep the area. Finding no one he figured he was being paranoid so he went back inside closed the door in the floor and returned the desk to its original position. He walked swiftly from the shed back to his car, got in, turned the ignition, and sped from the scene.
Back in the shed, Brown stepped from the shadows he’d been hiding in, thankful that he hadn’t been caught. Bending down he picked up the inhaler and dropped it in the shoulder knapsack that he carried his worldly possessions in. He had been around long enough to know whatever the cop was up to climbing out of that hole was none of his business and he would make sure it stayed that way.
James snapped back into the here and now. He had a prob-lem and he was determined to fix it. He should’ve never left them alone. Flashes of the two of them in the hospital room invaded his mind. He could picture her bent over the hospital bed with her backless gown still on and Black behind her pounding deep into his woman.
James became so blind with rage that he flipped over the desk his computer was on. As the computer monitor hit the floor James kicked it across the room then quickly jumped on top of it stomped and smashing the device it until the broken fragments of the monitor were all over the floor. In the after-math, he stood panting and sweating. His eyes were wild and blood was beginning to dry in the hairs of his mustache. Teresa will be mine, he thought. At any cost.
He went to his room and picked up his Bible. With it clutched underneath his arm James laid in his bed trying his best to turn off his mind. He hadn’t had these thoughts in years. Having them now made him feel weak and defenseless. He was even beginning to have the re-occurring nightmares and nose bleeds again. Here he was a grown man almost afraid to go to bed alone at night. He fought off the urge to take his sleeping pills. He had gone down that road of addiction during his college years. It did no good. The only thing that seemed to offer him any peace was reading scriptures from the Bible.
That still didn’t stop him from blaming himself; for not helping Teresa. What could he have done? It was useless. He was useless, just as he was as a boy. I’m still a boy, he thought. He remembered it like it was yesterday; standing idle as he watched his step-father molest his sister. He was 13 years old. He should have done something then and he should have done something for Teresa. He curled into a ball, bible still wrapped in his arms, and cried. His sister had forgiven him years ago. She’d told him that they were both children so how could she blame him. Still he had never forgiven himself. The right thing needed to be done; he just didn’t know what that was yet. But no matter what he did in life he was determined to do whatev-er it took to make things right for Teresa; whatever it took to make things right for himself.
Early the next morning Teresa awoke suddenly from her sleep. She was having a nightmare about being attacked yet in the dream her rapists were all faceless. The sound in the room was muted except for the faint sound of air being sucked in and quickly exhaled. The sound emanated from a silhouette in the back of the room. She could feel him watching her. Just as a sense of familiarity set in and she thinks she knows who the voyeur is, her eyes popped open and darted around her hospital room. She could feel the cold sweat consuming her body. Startled, she grabbed her chest surprised to find Black sitting in the chair across from her watching her sleep.
“What the hell man?” she blurted out annoyed.
“Sorry I startled you. You looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to wake you.”
She sighed. “It’s alright. What time is it? How long have you been here?”
“It’s almost 9 A.M. I’ve been here since 7:00.”
“I forgot you were an early riser.”
“You hungry? Can I get you anything?”
“I really could go for some of your famous fried fish.”
Black laughed. “At nine in the morning?”
“Well, you asked.”
“I did. Whatever you want, you’ll have.” Standing and walking over to her bed, he placed her hand in his. Looking down at her hand he saw that she was still wearing the en-gagement ring that he’d given her a year ago.
She quickly pulled her hand from his and tucked both of her hands underneath the sheets to hide her hands. He thought she had thrown it away. He saw the embarrassment in her eyes. There was an awkward silence and she turned her glance from his.
He cleared his throat to speak but she spoke first. “Can I have some time to get dressed please?”
Black nodded silently then turned and left the room closing the door behind him. He stopped the approaching doctor before he entered Teresa’s room. “You mind if I have a word with you doctor? I’m Black Love, Assistant District Attorney working on this case.”
Black flashed his badge to the doctor.
The doctor, a gray haired Pakistani man with a salt and pepper beard, spoke with a lisp. “Yes’th. Of course’th. There isn’t much to say. Like I told the detectives working the case, there was tearing of her vaginal walls and anus but that could also be conducive to rough sex’th.”
“Are you saying she made this up?”
“I’m not saying anything but what it appears to be.”
“What about fluids or hairs?”
“When she came in she didn’t remember when this had happened. True she was found in an alley over a week ago but someone went through a lot of extremities to clean her up. Any evidence that may have been there is long gone.”
“Is that all you can tell me?”
“I’m afraid so.” The doctor turned and knocked on Teresa’s door then entered without further discussion.
Black stood in the hall. He had yet to meet with the officer in charge of the investigation. He figured he’d get Teresa home and settled then drive over to the station and have a face to face.
About the Author:
Antwan Floyd Sr. is an avid reader, poet, author, publisher, graphic designer & father. With his own brand of storytelling he brings a different perspective to the literary world. He launched Bleeding Pen Publishing in 2009 and has since released several titles in paperback and in eBook format. He currently resides in Indianapolis, IN where he is working on his next project.
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