My Beloved Obsession: My Stereotypical Love, #3

This book is dedicated to my brother William, who is both kind and generous and a man after God’s own heart.

Copyright © 2016 B.D. Anderson

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In the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews.  Unauthorized

reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

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ISBN:  978-0-9979444-4-0 (E)

ISBN:  978-0-9979444-5-7(SC)

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Library of Congress Control Number:  2016919353

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The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author.

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are being used for illustrative purposes only.

The Book of Stereotypes

Raziel walked into the library and sighed when he saw that the man had returned once again and stood staring at the Book of Stereotypes. He walked by him and went up to the podium.

There you are, the man  exclaimed as Raziel took his seat on the podium behind the book.

The book is growing and growing much faster than the pages are leaving!

Raziel stared at him as he marched nervously back and forth in front of the book.  The man suddenly stopped walking and faced him.

Well do something! the man exclaimed waving his arms Things aren’t getting better, they’re getting worse!

Love always prevails, Raziel said quietly, his voice firm.  There is no need to panic and you shouldn’t be in here staring at this book as if our creator hasn’t already assured us of the victory. Why are you fretting?

The man sighed and turned from the book.  It just seems that everything is going wrong and it appears that evil is winning.

Where is your faith?  Raziel asked, putting his arm around the man.  No matter how bad things look now, I know that more stereotypes will be destroyed.

Are you sure? the man asked glancing back at the book.  He pulled away from Raziel’s embrace and his face was filled with doubt.

Raziel smile and extended his hand.  The man hesitated but reached out to Raziel.

Will things really work out?  the man asked again.

Raziel nodded and pulled him towards the door.

Come see.

Chapter 1

While white men tend to be more considerate lovers, black men are much more passionate and physically endowed.  - Book of Stereotypes

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Matheson listened as Val tried to explain her behavior that night at the club. He watched as the tears ran down her face and her voice broke between the sobs of her explanation. Her hand shook slightly as she held his hand in hers. She had cheated—well, not physically, but surely mentally she had betrayed him!

She should never have gone with that cousin of hers. He had felt nothing but dread when she’d told him that she was going out with Tameka. At the time he'd wanted to command her not to go, knowing that he didn't have a right to do so. Now it seemed that his fears had not been unfounded.

While in Florida he’d hung up his phone from talking to her and found his Aunt Hannah staring at him curiously. He’d shown up at her apartment after the confrontation with his grandfather.  He had played off her concern, but not very well. He didn't want to discuss his relationship with Val with anyone. Now that his trust in her had been shaken, he was glad that he’d kept the bulk of his insecurities to himself.  Val was unlike any woman he had ever met. She didn't have anyone else to compare him to, which gave him confidence in the bedroom. He had done everything he knew how to please her and the thought of her turning to someone else hurt more than he thought possible.

When he’d returned from Florida, he had known immediately from the sound of her voice that something was wrong. Something had happened. He had come over, per her request, and now he sat next to her on the sofa and stared down at her hand trembling in his as he listened to the details of her supposed infidelity. His heart was crushed, but he wouldn’t let her see his pain if he could help it.

Matheson, please say something, Val whispered, her voice choking.  He sat next to her, unwilling to look at her and trying to make sense of all she’d said.  Bottom line was that once he’d turned his back, she’d turned to someone else and he couldn’t get over the feelings of betrayal.  He held onto those feelings and drew himself up.

Matheson looked at her, his heart hammered in his chest and he stared at her, his eyes hard.

What is there to say, Val? Obviously, I'm not providing all you need and you had to go out seeking it from someone else,

That's not true, she exclaimed, jumping up. I went out to be with Tameka, for us to reconnect. I didn't go out looking for a man. It was supposed to be girl's night out.

Matheson shrugged, her words ineffective.  What is girl's night out really, Val? It’s girls going out looking for men! What was this, a last fling before being tied down to mediocre me? You wanted to see what it was like to be with a black man?

He was glad that he’d voiced what he was thinking even though he could see that she was stricken by his words. He had always heard that white men couldn't really satisfy black women and her actions only fed his insecurities more.  With her he’d felt that he had a chance, since she had been a virgin...but now, once again his confidence was shaken. He had been so sure that he was satisfying her sexually.  He now wondered if perhaps she had wanted to make a comparison of some sort.

Val squeezed his hand.  How can you even think that? I didn't go looking for anyone. It just happened, Matheson. How can you say such a thing to me?

I say that because you are now following in the footsteps of all the other women I've been involved with in my past. I thought things would be different with us. I thought that just maybe, you would be happy with just me. He pulled away from her and would not meet her pleading gaze, trying to mask his hurt.

Val grabbed his hand again. I am happy with you, Matheson. There's no one else for me—you know that. What happened was a freak accident! I don't know; maybe something was in my drink. I felt strange, like I didn't have much self-control. You've got to believe me. I'd never do anything to hurt you.

The drink made me do it, he spat sarcastically. He stood up. Right! I've heard enough. I need time to think—to clear my head.

He moved towards the door and she jumped up and grabbed his arm.

Where are you going? she asked pulling on him.

Home, he replied, not turning around. He opened the door and she quickly reached around it and slammed it shut.

Matheson please— she begged.

He spun around. I need time to think, Val. I need to decide whether to go on with this marriage or not.

You want to call it off? she asked, clearly distressed. 

I don't know what I'm going to do yet, Matheson replied. I need time to think. For me, marriage is forever. I need to feel that I'm all you'll ever want and need. I need to be able to trust you.

Tears ran down her face, which tore at his heart. He wasn't feeling vindictive. He was hurt and he needed some time to think and lick his wounds—the old ones that had surfaced.

Matheson, I love you, she pleaded. You know that I do.

Would a woman who loved me allow another man to touch what belongs to me? he asked, staring at her. Would a woman who loved me allow herself to become aroused by another man?

He turned and walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Val stared at the door, unable to comprehend what had just happened. She loved Matheson. She was sure of that. She didn't know what she'd expected him to say when she told him what she had done. What would she do if the roles were reversed? Most likely, she would respond much the same way Matheson had. How could she have been so foolish? How could she have allowed herself to end up in such a compromising position?

Could that drink have been spiked with something? How would she know? She picked up the phone and quickly dialed Tameka's cell. If she could prove that she had been taken advantage of, perhaps Matheson would find it in his heart to forgive her. Tameka went to the club a lot; she would know if something like this had happened to anyone else. Perhaps she had even seen Matthew there before with another woman, and maybe even heard that he'd done this before. After a few rings, Tameka picked up, her voice groggy.

Hello?

Meka, it's me Val.  Val noticed that Tameka sounded as if she were hung-over.

Uh...ok...what's up Val?

Are you alright? Val asked, concerned.

No, I had a bad night.

What happened? Val asked, when her cousin failed to elaborate. Tameka sounded strange, her voice, rough and scratchy, causing Val to temporarily forget her own dilemma.

That asshole—

You mean the football player?

Yeah him! It seems he likes it rough and when I didn't want to cooperate, things got ugly.

What?  Did he hit you? Val snapped, appalled, then with a daunting thought she whispered, Did he rape you? What happened, Meka?

He wouldn't call it rape.

Did you say no? Val insisted. Did he force you?

I mean, I was willing until he wanted to tie me up and choke me, Tameka replied. He smacked me around. He was a real freak!

Did you say no? Did you tell him to stop, and did you try to leave? Val pressed.

Yeah, but he did it anyway. He's much bigger than me, Val.

Then you were raped, Meka. I'm calling the police!

No, Val, she sobbed into the phone. Please don't. I don't want anyone to know what a fool I was for dealing with that asshole, in the first place. Everyone at the club saw us together. I knew what time it was. I don't have a leg to stand on! He's famous with a lot of money. He'll drag me through the mud for sure!

Tameka, that doesn't give him a right to rape you! I'm coming over there.

Before Tameka could protest, Val hung up the phone and headed to Meka's apartment.

Val now felt that her own problems were minor compared to Tameka's. She would not allow her cousin to let this go. Who cares that this rapist was David Jarrod; a famous football player? He had raped her, and he would pay for it!

Val pulled into the parking lot of Tameka's apartment. She saw several clusters of young men hanging around, with their pants hanging off their behinds, smoking. One of them was drinking from a beer can openly, laughing with the others. Tameka didn't live in the best of neighborhoods.

She walked up the steps of the apartment complex and could hear the loud music playing from several different apartments. Half naked children played in the yard, which was a dust bowl with no grass. The railing wobbled precariously as she walked up the steps. This place was a dump! She walked down the walkway overlooking the parking lot. Several of the young men watched her from below as she looked for Tameka's apartment, and she gripped the pepper spray in her pocket. No wonder Tameka always wanted to come to her apartment when they met up.

She stopped when she reached number 1520 and knocked on the door. It was several moments before the door was opened, with the chain still on the door from the inside.

Tameka?

I told you not to come, Tameka hissed.

Open this door or I'll kick it down, Val hissed back.

Tameka shut the door and Val could hear her removing the chain. The room was dark and Val walked in and tried to adjust her vision from being outside. She shut the door behind her and replaced the chain.

Tameka turned around and walked back to the bedroom with Val following her.

Val quickly turned on the light and was shocked at what she saw. Tameka had on a thin gown and she was covered with bruises. There was a larger bruise around her neck that looked as if something had been tied around it. Her eye was black and her lip was swollen. Dried blood was under her nose. Bruises were all over her body and there was no hiding them with Tameka's fair complexion. Val was livid though she tried to keep her voice calm. Tameka didn't need to hear a lecture, she needed emergency care.

Meka! Val gasped in a shocked whisper. Oh my God! Did he do this?

It's not that bad, Tameka stammered defensively.

Not that bad, Val snapped in disbelief. It looks like he beat the crap out of you! I'm calling the police!

No, Val. Please don't call the police, Tameka begged. I don't want to be in the papers. I don't want people whispering and gossiping about me. They'll say it's about money—

Val shook her head. He needs to be in jail and I'm going to be the one to help you put him there.

She quickly dialed 911. Tameka tried to grab the phone from her, but then groaned, as she was too sore to fight her cousin. Tameka fell back on the bed in defeat and put her arm across her face.

Val walked into the living room as she talked to the police. She walked back into the bedroom after she hung up the phone.

Have you showered since you came back? she asked. The police want to know.

I hurt too much to get in the shower. I thought I'd just wait until later— Tameka groaned behind her arm.

Good. They will be doing a rape kit. I have to take you to the emergency room, Val replied.

I don't want to go, Tameka whined. I'll be fine, Val. I just need a few days to recover.

Val ignored her. She looked in her closet and tried to find something loose fitting that wouldn't hurt her to try to put on. She didn't see much to choose from, and rummaged around in her drawers before finding a t-shirt and a short jean skirt. Didn't her cousin even own a pair of sweat pants or loose fitting clothes?

Put these on. I'll help you, Val instructed, walking over to her.

Tameka didn't protest and grimaced as she pulled off the gown. Val gasped at the bite marks on her shoulders, stomach and buttocks. Bite marks were on her breasts as well. On one breast, he had broken the skin and there was dry blood on the mark. What kind of sadistic animal would do this?

She helped Tameka dress, which was a slow process. She handed her a pair of flip flops and led her to the car. They drove in silence to the emergency room and Val talked to the desk clerk as Tameka sat in the waiting room. It wasn't long before the nurse led then to a room and drew the curtain, asking Tameka to undress. She asked Val to wait in the waiting room. 

Val used the opportunity to text Matheson and tell him what was going on. Maybe he was angry at her, but no one deserved to be brutalized like Tameka had been. For a moment she realized that the same thing could have happened to her and a chill ran over her. She wished that they had never gone to that club!

Val wasn't about to call their grandmother, Ethel Chamberlayne. She could just imagine how she would respond. She rested her head back against the seat in the waiting room, which was quite comfortable. She glanced at her watch and realized that she had already been there for over an