Chapter 131

***Kenya.***

***April 8th, few months earlier***

It was 4pm, Monday. We were practicing for the show in May, next month at the theater.

I was finally selected for the show, as a backup dancer. I didn't mind.

Byron always loved us performing on the Manhattan stage for a show, to get us prepared.

It had been four days since Hank's birthday. Four days since I moved into Andy's house.

She didn't mind. Asked me to stay longer. Hank was furious at my arrangement and was weary of my excuses.

When he called yesterday and I informed him that Andrea and I needed to master our routines, he had flared. I wasn't exhausted of all the excuses I was giving him. I was ready to keep manufacturing excuses, until I found the courage to leave him.

I told mum and Amanda about him. Knowing mum, she asked me to leave him. Said no person deserved an absusive relationship.

But mum was perfect and she didn't ever suffer derision from an impediment, whenever she walked the streets.

I saw it in people's eyes, and It made me miserable.

Hank was a safe zone for me. Someone who I felt gave me what I yearned for.

We finished the routine, just when Hank strolled into the theater. Surprised at seeing him, I tried to control my emotions. Dreading his presence.

Silently I let him lead us backstage, since he asked we talked. I equally needed us to talk.

Behind a screen door, I finished slipping into my shirt, when I felt strong arms around my waist. I stilled, the familiar scent of Hank, assaulting me. He always wore expensive perfume. Unfortunately, my dread of him, now made me find his scent, repulsive.

"Hey Baby. I missed you terribly. Your touch on my cock. Fucking your beautiful, small mouth. Remember how you couldn't take all of me into your throat." Hank growled in my ear. Grinding my arse with his erection.

His fingers already in my shirt, tweaking my nipples painfully. I was already wet and at the same time, disgusted by him. I wanted to have sex so bad. But not with Hank Hera.

He was the worst mistake I had ever made and I needed him gone.

He had no passion. No compassion. Nothing. It was like he was void of everything but sheer lust and ambition.

"I wanna fuck you baby. Right here, right now." He slipped his fingers into my waistband, finding my center. I gasped. His touch rough.

He began toying with my clit, evoking soft moans from me.

I heard my button unhook, my zipper following. He struggled to lower my jeans and I fought him, pushing him away, gently.

"No Hank. If you must have me, then why can't you cherish me. Be gentle with me," I fiercely said.

My eyes locked with his. He had a cloudy look on me.

This was the first man I was allowing into my life, and so far, there had been nothing but filthy lust in his eyes. I couldn't even see any speck of genuine desire.

Andy described his kind as the ones who fucked and left. Once they got what they wanted, they abandoned you.

His hardened gaze replaced the lust.

"You've been telling me this nonstop for weeks. I can have any pussy I want, Kenya. But I chose you. You should be grateful that I didn't leave, when my friends advised me. Despite your leg, I stayed." Hank bitterly spat.

I hitched my breath, astonished. So there hadn't been any affection for me. He had only seen me as pitiable case. I wanted to cry so bad, but I fought the urge.

A dull, familiar ache, found its way and I embraced it, allowing it take effect on me. I wasn't going to settle for anyone, who saw me less than human.

"Then leave." I didn't know where I found the courage.

But it rolled off my tongue, effortlessly. Peace filling me.

My declaration startled Hank, his eyes wide. When he regained himself, his eyes grew dark.

"What did you say?" He asked. I stood.

"I said, leave. I don't need your pity. I told you before, I am keeping myself for my future husband. And I stand on my word, Hank."

He hardened his gaze, taking slow steps, until he stood before me. He snarled.

"Let me hear you say that again, Kenya." His tone dropped to something menacing.

I flinched inwardly, not letting my fear show.

Shakily, I repeated my words. "I need you out of my life, Hank. Now"

A hand struck my face hard.

I screamed from the impact. Unexpected.

My ears ringing. The force shifting me. I landed into a pile of wires and appliances, just when I heard my friends rush into the scene. A sharp pain inside my palm and I looked. Blood. A deep gash.

"Ah" I cried. Instantly, Andrea rushed to my side.

"Rory, call the cops." Andrea called, sharply. She tried to stem the bleeding, but couldn't. Rory did as he was told, while Mike and a few other male dancers held Hank.

"Get off me!" Hank Cried, furiously.

"Not a chance. Andrea told me how you've been hitting Kenya. This ends now. If she can't fight you, then we will." Mike snarled. Someone brought a rope and Hank was tied.

"So, you're the fuckers that asked her to leave me, huh?" Hank spoke with derision.

"You deserve it." Mike threw back, pushing a bound Hank into a seat. Two other dancers came with a first aid kit and finally tended the wound.

Soon, Dave and the cops arrived. The cops asked I pressed charges, but I refused.

He left with a warning, displeasing everyone, present.

Before the cops left, one of them met me.

"Crimson is the only thing now, tomorrow it could be a coffin. Nip this in the bud."

His smile was wan.

His eyes held pain.

He had seen this before.