Don't Leave Me This Way Read online

  Don’t Leave Me This Way

  by Sienna Mynx

  Prelude

  Ten Years Ago

  Princeton University, September 2003

  “Keturah! Hurry, we’ll miss our flight!” Mae shouted. Keturah tossed more shirts into her bag and ran down the zipper. “KETURAH!”

  Flustered she sighed in defeat. She went to the window and leaned out with her hands gripping the window seal. Her long braids hung downward, a few of them were in her face. “Would you chill out! Our flight doesn’t leave for three hours. Give me a sec. Damn!”

  “A sec? You’ve had me waiting out here for over ten minutes! The meter is running. Plus we have to go to the bank! Bring your ass down here!” Mae shouted, cupping her hands as if she were broadcasting her demand through a bullhorn. Keturah suffered a stab of guilt. It was true. She was a procrastinator. They would miss their flight if she didn’t hurry.

  “Okay! Sorry, on my way!” She slammed the window down. Mae shook her fist at her and marched towards the waiting taxi. Maeko Chu was her fiercest rival and closest friend. Keturah had never really had girlfriends that were culturally different. But Princeton had changed her perspective on the world. When they both landed the spot for the fellowship and grant to study abroad they decided to be friends instead of enemies.

  Keturah grabbed the worn handle to her forty-pound suitcase and dragged it towards the door. Just as she crossed the threshold her cell phone rang. She fished the little flip phone out of her pocket. She hadn’t expected a call from her father.

  “Hello Daddy!”

  “Keturah, this is Jason. I wanted to confirm that you have everything you need.”

  “Oh, okay yes, I do. Where’s my father?” she asked. “I left a message days ago for him to call me.”

  “The money for school and expenses has been deposited into your account. If you should need anything else please let me know. I’ll see to it immediately,” Jason replied.

  Three students on her hall that she was friendly with came out of their rooms to say goodbye to her as she balanced the door, the luggage, and the phone with her body. She smiled and nodded at them. Her heart sank over Jason’s cold aloof message. “Could you… ask my dad to call me?” Keturah asked.

  The silence on the other end of the phone dragged on. Jason, her father’s assistant, spoke with a tense tone of tolerance. “I will deliver the message. Travel safe.”

  The call ended abruptly. The last time she saw her father was during the summer break. It was then that he informed her that his schedule would have him out of the country for most of the year. She would have to communicate through Jason from now on. He never returned her calls. He never responded to her emails. It hurt more and more. But she couldn’t focus on the emotional strain. What would be the point?

  She pulled her luggage out of the door and let it close. Keturah shoved the phone down in her bag with her passport and pulled the strap of her purse high on her shoulder.

  “Need help?” Debbie asked. She was a short dark skinned girl from Oakland, California, who wore her dreadlocks tied up in a red, black, and green scarf. She often braided Keturah’s hair for her.

  “Thanks!” Keturah smiled. Together they started for the elevator.

  “So, you’re headed to Cambridge Uni huh?” Debbie asked.

  “Yeah, I’m kind of nervous though,” Keturah confessed. “It’s my first time out of the country.”

  “Don’t be. I did the program last year. It sucked. They rarely award the grant to the American students, and I’ve never seen a black candidate make it through the entire program.” Debbie shrugged. “They probably only accepted you for some affirmative action quota Princeton needed to meet.”

  “That’s not true,” Keturah frowned.

  Debbie arched a slender brow. Her hazel eyes blazed with defiance. Debbie was a master debater. Most gave up within ten minutes on any topic. Either Debbie was surprised or insulted that Keturah would challenge her opinion, since Keturah typically kept her opinions to herself. The girls stood before the elevator alone. The silence between them lengthened. Keturah couldn’t wait for the elevator to arrive. Debbie spoke, “Sorry about what I said. Believe what you want. Even if you deserve the scholarship and get it, they’ll believe what they want about you.”

  “I’m excited to go either way,” Keturah said. She chose to ignore the sarcasm. They stepped onto the elevator. Debbie punched the button for the bottom floor.

  “A word of advice. Find the African students. Hang with them. Stay away from the preppy white boys strolling for some fetish lay. Trust me. Oh and make sure you can back up all your references in the capstone. If you qualify they are sure to challenge each and every one.”

  “Whatever,” Keturah said. Neither the call from her father’s errand boy or Debbie could spoil her mood. The elevator doors opened. She and Debbie dragged her bags to the door. When Debbie saw Maeko waiting she gave Keturah a look of disapproval. It irked Keturah how segregated so many of the black and white students were in their thinking.

  “Thanks for everything, Deb,” Keturah fast walked and Debbie kept pace. Outside of the dorm in the cold, Keturah tried to take the handle of the luggage Debbie pulled for her.

  “Wait a second. I wanted to say good luck.” Debbie grabbed her arm with a hard squeeze. “I mean it. Didn’t want to come off as a bitch but sometimes I do. Here’s my advice. Stay on campus, keep your head down, and get your work done. When it’s over get the hell out of there. Don’t be so trusting.” She gave Mae an eye roll and then released Keturah’s arm. Before she could respond Debbie turned and walked away. Mae hurried over. She grabbed some of Keturah’s bags in an abrupt manner. Either Mae didn’t see Debbie’s cold glare or didn’t care. Keturah believed it was the latter. Together they brought the luggage over to the taxicab driver who refused to step away from the open trunk.

  “If we miss our flight I’ll be really pissed.” Mae informed her. Her friend began to rant and curse in Mandarin. Mae was Chinese American.

  “We won’t. I promise,” Keturah replied.

  Keturah glanced back at Forbes Hall. Debbie stood behind the glass door staring after her. The look she wore on her face gave Keturah pause. She waved at Debbie who waved back. Whatever made Debbie despise the program at Cambridge was her own personal issue. Keturah was positive it wouldn’t be hers.

  London England –

  “Are you just going to stand there?” the Countess asked. She sipped her tea from a small cup. Crispin stared out of the rain sleeked window to the street below. Several people busied about oblivious to the misty downpour. He stroked his chin. Crispin envied the normalcy. When was the last time he took his bike out and went for a ride in the rain?

  “Aww, and here I was looking forward to seeing you all day. Very well, then let’s play our game. What does Crispin need? What does Crispin want? Hmmm?” she cleared her throat. “Your mother is making plans. Do they scare you Crispin? What is expected?”

  His gaze slipped from the window to the Countess. Her ruby red lips parted in a seductive smile. “It’s been four years since you’ve come to me.” She spread a napkin across her knee. She picked up her salad fork and speared a tomato. She spoke before bringing it to her mouth. “I heard your parents’ have plans for you. Looks to me that you struggle with what is expected.”

  Crispin turned from the window and eased his hands down into the pockets of his jeans. She was an attractive woman. When he was a kid he thought of her as a goddess. But as a man he saw her for who she truly was. A controlling wench who manipulated every man or boy within her reach to satisfy her own sadistic needs. He was once her prey. Those days were long gone.

  “I asked you to come so we could say our goodbyes
.”

  The Countess’ gaze flickered up. She placed the cherry tomato in her mouth and chewed. She picked up her napkin and dabbed at the corners as she swallowed. “This is interesting. I thought we said our goodbyes four years ago when you decided to end our games.”

  “I decided?” he asked.

  “We decided,” she grinned.

  Her floral perfume filled the air. It stunk of it. He hated the scent. He hated her polished beauty and air of superiority. He hated the hypocrisy. Crispin had spent four years hating everything about her.

  “Join me,” she pouted. “Lunch is divine.”

  Lunch was served in her suite. The hotel belonged to Crispin’s family. Her presence here was just as much an irritant as the dark history they shared that he could never wash himself clean of. “You will no longer visit the family, come here, come anywhere near the Maxwell’s again.”

  She chuckled. “Or what? What will you do little Crispin?”

  He approached with a slanted smile. Even as he stood there with revenge in his grasp he had to acknowledge his weakness. Why had he let it go on for so long between them? Why had he ever given her any power over him? Youth was no excuse. He’d have to one day face what made him once her prey. Whatever that flaw in his human spirit was, he wanted it done away with. Permanently.

  “Nothing to say Crispin?” she asked.

  “Under your plate Countess,” he replied.

  Her smug confidence dimmed in her clear blue eyes. She lowered her gaze to her plate. Her hand was slow but without hesitance as she lifted the plate. A plain envelope was placed beneath it. The Countess glanced up at Crispin with a curious tilt of her head. And now Crispin, twenty-four and aware, could finally give the witch what she deserved.

  The Countess removed the envelope and opened it. She glanced to him once before pulling out the small polaroid’s. The steady fingers of a well-bred woman began to tremble. Her skin paled as the blood drained from her face. Horror stretched her eyes.

  “If I see, or hear your name even spoken anywhere near my family again I will send those pictures to the press, your husband, and Scotland yard. I’ll send them to fucking Queen Elizabeth herself.”

  “Wha-where did you get these?” she stammered. “Where did you get these?” the Countess shouted.

  Crispin smiled. He was his father’s son. Resources and means were a privilege he could indulge in now. He was no longer her pet. “Enjoy your meal. I expect you out of the fucking hotel before sunset.”

  “CRISPIN!” The Countess screamed.

  He plucked his sports jacket up and slipped it on as he headed for the door. Her screams of outrage followed him out of her suite to the elevator. When he arrived at the lower floor, George the doorman greeted him.

  “Fetch my bike!” Crispin said.

  “Sir? It’s raining.”

  Crispin smiled “It’s the best day for a ride.”

  Cambridge, England ~ Cambridge University

  Keturah rubbed the fatigue from the pockets under her eyes. Her back ached between her shoulder blades. No matter how she shifted in the seat she was uncomfortable. The flight to London, and now the drive to Cambridge, left her muscles tight with weariness.

  “You okay?” Mae asked.

  “Yeah.” Keturah tried to mask her discomfort with a smile. She strained to make out anything remarkable about the passing city. After all this was England. She had always wanted to visit this country. The box shaped cab drove along the motorway with the driver seated on the right instead of the left. She couldn’t help but feel a little edgy over the role reversal. And the cabbie did nothing to alleviate her fears. He zipped in and out of traffic with no regard for their safety.

  Mae took a few pictures of stone cottages and sloping hills when they rode into the countryside. “We are going to go out at least once while we’re here,” she announced.

  “Not interested,” Keturah said after a wide, open mouth yawn. “You go out while I snatch up that scholarship.”

  Mae chuckled and shook her head. They rode in comfortable silence. She and Mae fit in that way. Sometimes they both wanted to be alone with their thoughts.

  “What did Debbie say to you?” Mae asked.

  “Debbie?” Keturah frowned.

  “Outside. Before we got in the cab. She grabbed your arm. What did she say?” Mae asked. She snapped more pictures with her digital camera.

  “It was nothing. Forget about it,” Keturah replied.

  “She doesn’t like me much,” Mae glanced over. “She doesn’t like you being friends with me.”

  “Oh please. Debbie doesn’t like anybody.” Keturah tried to make light of the conversation. It was true. Debbie didn’t like Mae and made sure every time the three of them were together she let Mae know.

  “I heard she tried out for the grant last year. Rumor has it Ms. Militant got in trouble with an English cutie. Smoking weed on campus. I heard she got kicked out of the program.”

  That news struck Keturah hard. “Rumor? Where did you hear this rumor? Why are you just now telling me about this?”

  “Because it’s none of our business,” Mae said. “I just didn’t want her to get in your head. You’re always so uptight, Keturah. Let’s have some fun while we’re here. Okay?”

  “Who told you this about Debbie?” Keturah demanded.

  “Does it matter? If it’s true then too bad for Debbie Downer. If it’s a lie then who cares?” Mae said. “Hang out with me. One night. Together we will explore the city. Promise me right now. You can pick the day.”

  Keturah reached in her backpack. She pulled out the package and the school schedule. She flipped through several pages. “Thursday is a free day for the exchange students. I guess that’s your day.”

  Mae clapped with glee and Keturah couldn’t help but smile. Her friend was a wildcat on the party scene. Mae loved the attention her exotic features drew from all kinds of men. But as flirty as she was she never hooked up with anyone. Keturah was just the opposite. Though men, mostly boys, had called her pretty she never really saw the need to take pride in surface beauty. She had her father’s skin, which was a dark ebony shade of brown. She was also tall for her build, with a petite waist, and oversized breasts. Her hair was always braided down in tiny plats that reached to her ass. She typically tamed her locks from her face in a ponytail. Her lips were thick and full, her cheekbones sculpted high making her eyes slant when she smiled. Her father often told her she looked like her mother when she was her age. Maybe he even resented her a little bit for it.

  “We’re here!” Maeko exclaimed. “Finally!”

  “Yes. About time,” Keturah sighed.

  They arrived at the resident hall. The long day of traveling had completely exhausted them both. The girls struggled under the brisk winter elements to carry their things inside. A student guide greeted them both in the lobby. The young woman with short red hair handed off room keys and packets. They were both disappointed that they wouldn’t be sharing a room, but with so much going on they wouldn’t have any time to socialize either way.

  Keturah accepted her booklet, her financial card for food and any incidentals during their stay. There was also a map of the college, information on the neighboring colleges, ID badges, and a detailed schedule mirroring the ones they received before arriving. She said her goodbye to Mae and walked down the long corridor to her room.

  Once inside she plopped on the rubber mattress and scoped out the small quarters. Besides the bed, desk, and chair the room was bare. She walked over to the closet; opening the door she was amused by the limited space. She turned around with her hands on her hips.

  She had done it.

  She had a lot to be proud of now.

  Mae was her best friend but Keturah planned to crush her to dust. She was a fierce competitor. Debbie Downer was wrong, the grant was hers. She could feel it.

  Keturah went through the motions, emptying her elephant sized suitcase. In an hour there would be orientation, followed by a meet a
nd greet with the other students. Dinner would be held in Henry hall and the shuttle bus would arrive promptly at 6 to pick up the students. She fingered through the schedule and sighed. Her studies were the only thing in her life that brought her joy. That was pretty pathetic.

  **

  Thursday –

  “Come in!” Keturah called out.

  “Helloooooo!” Mae sang.

  Keturah didn’t bother to turn from her book to address her visitor. The only visitor she ever had was Mae. “What do you need?” Keturah asked.

  “Huh?”

  When Mae didn’t explain the reason for the visit she glanced back to her friend. Keturah arched a brow in surprise. Mae had changed. Gone was the schoolmarm hairdo and oversized shirts with stretch pants. “I said what do you need?” Keturah repeated with a frown.

  Mae sashayed in trailing a very seductive draft of perfume. Her hair fell evenly past her shoulders from a center part. It was the deepest shade of black. She wore fitted jeans and a hot pink turtleneck that accentuated her petite frame and small breasts.

  “What’s shakin’, bacon?” Mae grinned.

  Keturah shook her head smiling. She highlighted a passage in her book and continued to read. Mae huffed noisily for her attention. When Keturah didn’t look up Mae walked over to the door, opened it and then slammed it hard.

  “No way, man! We said we were going out. You promised me that I had Thursday!”

  “Is it Thursday already?” Keturah frowned.

  “Get up and get dressed!” Maeko shouted to the top of her lungs.

  “Are you crazy? You want to get us thrown out of here?” Keturah asked. “Lower your voice. And don’t slam my door again.”

  “Whatever to that attitude, Miss Lady. We had a deal. We’re going, so get dressed.”

  Keturah removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. A headache had taken root and her eyes burned from the lack of sleep. “I can’t. I’m not even at a stopping point.”

  Her friend leaned in over her shoulder. She scoffed at the twenty-eight-page document that Keturah had been slaving over. “You over think things too much. The research is there. Let it speak for itself. And you’re too uptight. I bet if you loosened up and had some fun for a change the work would flow. There has to be a balance,” she said.