Eye for an Eye Read Online Free Page A

her head slowly as the tears cascaded down her cheeks. She could barely utter, “I . . . I wasn’t . . .” before she was cut off again.
    â€œGet your ass dressed, Lisette, and then go and wash your fucking mouth. We’re leaving. And quit with the fucking tears.”
    Lisette Jones wiped at her eyes and pushed away from the dressing table, but her legs felt like rubber and she had to place a hand down against the edge of it to keep from falling down.
    He’d hit her. It didn’t seem real. He wouldn’t do something like that. He just couldn’t.
    She gathered her clothes and began to get dressed. As she did, she trembled, the shocking reality of the situation chilling her to the bone.
    He could hit her.
    After making a silent and quick exit from the party, they drove home in silence. Without a good-bye, Jamil dropped her off and then drove away, not bothering to make sure she’d gotten inside as he usually did. That night she lay in bed, wondering how she could have been so wrong in the way she wanted to please him.
    He’d hit her.
    For him to have flipped out on her, she surmised that it had been her fault. It had to be. She cried herself to sleep, certain that she’d lost the only person she ever truly connected with.
    But things were different the next day.
    They always were.

5
    â€œBaby, please forgive me. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to lose control like that. It’s just . . . it’s just that I love you so much. I’ve never loved anyone the way that I love you. No one has ever made me feel the way you make me feel. I can do anything with you in my life. Please . . . I’ll stop drinking. I’ll learn to control my anger. You’ve got to believe me. You’re my world. My everything. I love you with all my heart. I . . . I don’t know what I was thinking. I just didn’t think.
    â€œI swore I would never be anything like my father. He . . . he used to hit my mom so much. I hated him when growing up. I still hate him. Just give me one more chance to prove that I’m different from him. Give me another chance to show you how special you are. You’ll never have to go through something like this again. Let me prove it to you. Let me show how sorry I am. I love you and I need you.”
    Â 
    Â 
    Over the course of eighteen months, those words or different variations of them were spoken to Lisette Jones. It all depended on how Jamil lost control in order to control.
    Slaps, punches, kicks, choke holds, verbal abuse. Then came the apologies with roses or expensive gifts, with promises to do and be different.
    After that, there was the sex.
    Mind-blowing sex. Sex that made her knees weak. Sex that caused God’s name to be called over and over. Sex that made her body overflow. Sex that was repeated in multiple positions. Sex that had been better than the time before. Sex that accepted the apologies and made everything all right. Sex that made her believe there would be no next time. Sex made her think that she was special, that he did love her, that he did need her.
    Eighteen months.
    She was a fool devoted to love and trapped by fear.
    She was weak, pathetic, pitiful. Different words, all meaning the same thing. She was a sorry excuse for a woman, controlled by a man who was far weaker than she had ever been.
    Eighteen months.
    One too many wake-up calls, until one too many became just that.
    One. Too. Many.
    One night. Lights dimmed low. Luther Vandross, singing “Always and Forever” from the CD player. Lisette Jones died and was reborn.
    One too many.
    Jamil had been promoted to assistant editor on the set of the soap opera he’d been working for when he graduated. He was still determined to become the Spike Lee/Steven Spielberg love child, but he had to earn his stripes. The promotion had been a very positive step in that direction.
    He was thrilled and wanted to celebrate. They’d gone out to