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Always Unique Page 10
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Detective Jones eyed his partner, who hadn’t said a word since they entered the room. Then he snapped his notepad closed and said, “We’ll be in touch.”
Neither Kennard nor Tyeedah was sure to whom the detective was referring.
COMA
The next thirty-six hours were torturous for Kennard. That day and a half at the hospital felt more like thirty-six years in a prison cell awaiting execution.
Kennard never left Unique’s side and had to be pried away from her before she was taken into surgery. He hated the fact that his actions might have been considered bitch-assness, but Unique was a part of his soul. He didn’t give a fuck what it looked like.
The fight at Madison Square Garden took place as scheduled. But he didn’t really care about that bout; he and Unique were smack-dab in the middle of their own fight, one with a significantly larger purse: her life.
Unique was now hooked up to a team of lifesaving machines. She was in a coma, and the doctor wasn’t sure when or if she would ever wake up. The doctor said that Unique was lucky that Kennard had found her when he did and that the EMT guys had gotten her to the hospital as soon as they did, or she would have died for certain.
With all due respect to the doctor’s expertise, Kennard begged to differ. As he looked at his woman lying on a hospital bed, unable to move, Unique didn’t appear to be rolling in four-leaf clovers to him. Luck was relative.
Kennard had cleared over eighty million dollars from the fight Saturday night and would have paid every dime of it to be able to change this particular predicament. But it didn’t work like that. Shit—life didn’t work that way. Money could buy him the best doctors but not time travel or a pass to keep his girlfriend from the gates of heaven or hell for that matter. Regardless of what Disney World wanted people to believe, fantasies didn’t accept credit cards.
Kennard had to wrap his head around the reality Unique might never wake up.
The doctor had said that the longer Unique remained with no progress, the more her chances of pulling through decreased.
Kennard wanted to—he so badly needed to—take his anger out on someone, mainly the person or people behind not only this brutal crime to his woman but also of the violation and disrespect to him. Besides wanting Unique to pull through, he wanted to make these horrible people feel her pain and their loved ones to feel his.
He couldn’t believe that fate would have it that he had been in a situation similar to this one, almost a decade ago regarding Kyra, who was then his girlfriend and who, just like Unique, happened to be pregnant with his baby when she was kidnapped and held for ransom.
It didn’t matter who did this or how long it would take him to find the people responsible. It had taken him two years of keeping his ear to the streets to find out who had killed Kyra. The murderers turned out to be three cats from Queens, who were delivered to him on a silver platter.
The murderous secret eventually proved to be like water, too hard for them to hold. One of them, a kid name Righteous, started bragging to some homies and it didn’t take long for the word to get back to Harlem and straight to Kennard.
Righteous had no problem killing, it seemed—that was easy for him—but he was less keen on pain being inflicted upon him.
A couple of fingers cut off with a reciprocating saw and Kennard and his team weren’t able to shut him up. Righteous tried to confess to every abject thing he’d ever done in his miserable life. He would have done anything to stop the pain. Anything to stay alive. He was a real sucker, and he took the coward’s way out.
He hadn’t given a damn about the pain that had been inflicted upon Kyra or the hurt Kennard had felt every day afterward.
Kennard only wanted to know two things from Righteous: who were his accomplices and why did they do it?
In return, Kennard promised Righteous that he would not kill him slow …
Righteous did not hesitate. He quickly gave up his two cohorts, their names, addresses, birthdays, and shoe sizes. He held back nothing.
When he finished, Kennard thanked him, then shot him in the forehead.
If nothing else, Kennard was a man of his word. As for how Righteous’s partners paid for what they had done, that’s a whole other story.
Since then he never thought that he would ever love again or find anybody else that he would give his heart to—that was, until the day he innocently bumped into Unique at a party in the Hamptons.
FRESH AND CLEAN
Kennard was brought out of his thoughts of the past by someone calling his name.
“Kennard,” the voice was soft. “Wake up.”
He jumped, startled. His first thought was that Unique had come out of the deep sleep and had gotten enough strength to speak while he had fallen asleep. He snatched his eyes open so fast the wind from his fanning lashes almost blew a cup off the table.
“You should go down the hall and shower and clean up,” the voice said. “Change clothes.”
It was Tyeedah. She looked genuinely concerned, both for him and Unique.
Besides his parents, no one had been by his and Unique’s side during this crisis like Tyeedah. Kennard didn’t really know Tyeedah all that well before this whole ordeal, except that Unique had moved to New York to stay with Tyeedah and that they were aces, but now he knew that it was more than that. Their friendship trumped most others.
Kennard’s mother, Ms. Katie, interrupted, “I brought him some nice clean clothes and asked him to go change, but he wouldn’t. He has his mind set on being by her side. And if you know anything about my Kennard, you know that once his mind is set, there’s no turning back.”
Tyeedah took into consideration what his mother said but still tried to convince him. “Look, I can respect you wanting to be here, but trust me: Unique would appreciate it more if you go hit the shower. Blood is not a fresh smell, my brother.”
He didn’t speak, but he heard her.
“Unique’s gonna pull through this sooner rather than later and when she does, you need to have your shit together. And can I have at least thirty minutes to say that I was by her side, please?” She gave him a slight smile. “It don’t make no sense how you hogging her bedside from other people who love her, too.”
She knew she was getting to him.
“Now go ahead and shower, shave, and shit; I got this,” Tyeedah urged Kennard.
He said, “I’m good. But it would be fucked up if I wasn’t here when and if she woke up.”
By the look in her eyes, he could tell that she understood.
“Well, first, I know more than you. Unique is a fighter and she will wake up. And when she does, you don’t look all that good. In fact…” she said, “you look a mess.”
Kennard usually was very conscious about his appearance and took notice of himself for the first time since the ordeal. He couldn’t help but note his wrinkled clothes had been saturated with blood, and that he smelled. The last thing he wanted was to be mistaken for a crackhead or a bum.
“You don’t want to scare the poor girl to death when she wakes up, do you?” She flashed a quick smile. “Let me take the watch for now. You go clean, then get back down here as soon as you can.” Tyeedah’s eyes went over to Unique and softened more than they already were, before turning back to Kennard. “If she so much as makes a peep while you’re gone, I’ll call you immediately. Promise.”
There were a few things that needed his attention. For one, he needed to put word on the streets that it will be very beneficial by way of a reward for the person that led him to whoever was responsible for this.
He got a whiff of his body odor and thought to himself, A change of clothes and a shower wasn’t such a bad idea, either.
“You promise to call?”
“So much as a peep,” she said. “Now get outta here.”
OMG!
No sooner than twenty minutes after Kennard returned, Tyeedah screamed, “Oh, my God!”
Kennard was about to turn his attention to Tyeedah to ask her w
hat was wrong when he witnessed the miracle that made her shout out. He wanted to do the same thing when he saw what she was looking at. He wanted to yell at the top of his lungs thanking his Higher Power for not turning His back on him.
Unique was awake. His sleeping beauty had risen from her slumber.
Standing over her, Kennard said, “Baby, welcome back.”
Her mouth was dry and sticky and felt like she’d been drinking Elmer’s glue. Her body ached like it had been run over by a Mack truck.
For a few minutes, she looked around to place her surroundings and then asked, “Welcome back to where?” Her voice felt scratchy.
“Welcome back to us,” Kennard told her. “You have been in a coma for the past day and a half.”
Unique had no idea she’d been asleep that long. It felt like she’d only taken a nap.
“Are you okay?” Unique asked.
Kennard nodded. “Yeah, baby. You’re the one we’re concerned about.”
Unique didn’t remember anything after preparing for the interviews and pictures that had been lined up the day of the fight. From that point her mind was totally blank, like a memory disk that got too close to a magnet.
Tyeedah said, “It’s true,” as if she could read her mind.
This was so weird, she thought. “I need some water. It feels like tumbleweeds are in my mouth.”
Kennard and Tyeedah gave a small chuckle while Kennard jumped to pour a cup of water from the pitcher that was sitting on the bedside table. He put a straw in the cup and pushed the button on the bed to raise Unique’s head and then placed the end of the straw into her mouth. Unique could have held the cup herself, but the care and attention Kennard was giving her felt good.
She took a long pull.
The water was warm, room temperature, and felt like a much-needed rain shower in the middle of the barren desert. The way a flower must feel when it had been neglected, then finally given a drink before the petals turned completely brittle.
After another sip, this one shorter, she said, “If today is Monday who won the fight?”
Kennard smiled.
“Taymar knocked Jockey out in the sixth round so they tell me, but the fight isn’t even important right now, baby. I’m glad that you are awake.”
Kennard kissed her lips.
“Don’t you remember what happened?” Tyeedah asked. She and Unique locked eyes. Tyeedah looked worried about something.
Kennard interjected, “I found you lying on the bathroom floor. You were…” He stopped midsentence and looked like he wanted to spit out more, but instead, swallowed his words.
She could tell from the way his eyes shifted that Kennard was holding something back. He probably thought he was protecting her somehow. He was so unselfish. She wished that she could be more like him.
It was her selfishness, she knew, somehow, that had caused what happened to her like the snowball that caused the avalanche. She knew that much, but the details were still hazy.
Slowly, Unique’s memory began to return. In her mind, she was back at the Tabby.
The hotel room, the shower—it was all coming back to her now. Then the lights went out. She had thought it was Kennard playing around.
“Are you okay, babe?” Kennard’s voice snapped her thoughts from the hotel room to the hospital room. “You look sorta funny.”
“I’m … I’m fine. Just trying to remember what happened,” she said, sounding like some chick straight out of a soap opera scene. She couldn’t believe this type of thing was real. That this was her life and not her favorite characters on The Young and the Restless who woke up in hospitals not able to remember how it was they had gotten there.
Kennard rubbed her hair and said, “Don’t rush. It will all come back to you soon enough. No need to overwhelm yourself all at once.”
It was sound advice, but her mind was running its own show at that moment. It wasn’t used to following outside instructions on how to handle inside business. It continued to run the clips from the horrific incident.
She put her hand on her stomach. “The baby?” she questioned. “Is the baby okay?” But by the look in Kennard’s eyes, she knew that it wasn’t. Tears formed in her eyes. The fact that she had lost the one thing that truly would belong to her and Kennard made the tears turn into sobs.
“Baby, don’t worry. Everything is gonna be all right, I promise!” Kennard sealed the promise with a kiss on her forehead.
$$$$$
Once Unique was out of the clear and moved to the Intensive Care Unit, Kennard’s parents visited with her. Plus, Detectives Jones and McGeary returned. They wanted to talk to Unique but Kennard stopped them in their tracks. “Look, she just woke up. Let her recover.” He tried to be diplomatic.
Tyeedah spoke up. “Look, the bottom line is take that shit to the streets. She can’t tell you nothing, ’cause she’s still trying to figure out where the hell she is at and who is the damn president.”
“Well, miss, we have a job to do and she will need to talk to us now,” Detective Jones said.
“Give me your card and I will make sure that she calls you when she is feeling up to it,” Tyeedah countered.
Kennard quietly watched as Tyeedah dealt with the police officers.
He listened to Tyeedah and admired the fact that she was really down for Unique. Kennard’s daddy used to tell him that there were two types of friends: fair-weather and true. “When things got cloudy the difference would start to surface,” his daddy would say, “and when the sky opened, pouring out an all-shit storm and there was only room for one under the umbrella, the one standing there beside you with shit on their face is a true friend.”
Kennard could tell that Tyeedah was the type that would stand there with feces covering her face.
“Miss, I know this is a critical time right now,” Detective Jones said, although it didn’t stop him from his line of questioning, “but do you know anybody who might have wanted to hurt Ms. Bryant?”
Tyeedah paused for a second, ready to cuss him out, but Ms. Katie, Kennard’s mother answered instead, in her loving, concerned motherly voice. “That girl was a godsend to my son. She didn’t bother a soul and wouldn’t want to even hurt a fly.”
“So maybe this was random?” Bernard, Kennard’s father chimed in.
“Oh, I’m not sure about that, because it looks like a crime of passion,” Detective McGeary said.
Detective Jones pulled Tyeedah to the side out of earshot of Ms. Katie and her sanctified friend, but Kennard could still hear. “Was she carrying on an affair with anybody?”
“Are you serious?” Tyeedah asked, then answered, “No, she was devoted to that man, and they are both madly in love. That’s it, that’s all.”
“So, you don’t know anyone who would want to hurt her?”
“Man, what the hell did I tell you already? You fishing in the wrong pond here.”
That’s what Tyeedah said to the police officer but she knew different and Kennard was going to get to the bottom of it.
POP GOES THE WEASEL
Two hours after the police had left, Tyeedah found herself standing in front of the main entrance to the hospital, watching as the sun reflected off of the skyscrapers. She was ready to call it a day, while inside of her being, optimism, misery, and hopelessness shared the same space. She thought back to her conversation with Kennard that took place moments ago and things were not sitting right with her.
Tyeedah was mad, angry, and just like Kennard, altogether emotionally fucked up. It was one thing not ratting her girl out to the police or her man, but Tyeedah refused to stand around doing nothing while the idiot responsible for putting her friend in an emergency operating room ran around as if everything was all good. Awww hell no! She tapped her foot, about to get a whole other attitude at Fat Tee.
It was graveyard quiet since the police had left and Kennard was right beside Unique’s bed in the corner of the room facing the door. Tyeedah, sensing he wanted to be alone, had let him mari
nate in his own mental anguish. Until she couldn’t take it anymore, she knew that she had to act.
She spoke softly in a tone right above a whisper as Unique slept. “I have to leave.” Kennard was standing in a corner, but his mind was surely in another place. “I’m sorry, but there’s something that needs my immediate attention. It just can’t be put off any longer.”
Unique had called the Big Apple home for less than a year and she didn’t have any family in New York. Besides a few acquaintances at culinary school, Tyeedah and Kennard were her only real friends. All the family she had, and Tyeedah felt terrible for having to temporarily run out on her.
Kennard’s face was a mask of agony and anger. His eyes—twin volcanoes, bubbling just below the surface, capable of erupting at any provocation—met Tyeedah’s as he thanked her for coming. “I’m just really appreciative of you showing up and being here and being her friend.”
“No thanks ever needed. I love that girl! I will ride with her until the wheels fall off.”
There was nothing else left for either one to say.
His grief was palpable. Unique was the mother of his unborn child. His fiancée. His best friend. And until retribution was exacted upon the person responsible for the pain that was brought upon his family, the healing couldn’t begin—neither his nor Unique’s. Kennard was not the forgiving type. God forgave freely; but Kennard didn’t.
Watching the pain simmering in his eyes, Tyeedah wanted to tell Kennard that she knew how he felt, that she understood the myriad of emotions fighting for supremacy in his head: guilt, sorrow, vengeance, and anguish. She knew that a powerful man rendered powerless over any situation felt less than a man.
Not knowing what else to do, Tyeedah wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him as tightly as she could. She tried to force his pain away with that hug, hoping and praying that she could comfort him the way a sister would console a brother, a mother would her son. In her embrace, Kennard’s muscles were so tight, his body felt like a steel beam: hard, cold, unyielding, not reciprocating.